


All It Needed Was A Kickstart

by FictionalNutter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Dean Winchester, Angry John Winchester, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Archangel Gabriel (Supernatural), Awesome Bobby, Dean Talks About Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Sam, Episode: s05e16 Dark Side of the Moon, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Protective Gabriel, Resurrected John Winchester, Samulet, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2018-05-25 07:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 42,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6185668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionalNutter/pseuds/FictionalNutter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Dark Side of the Moon, Sam and Dean are further apart than ever. Castiel and Dean have both lost their faith, and Sam is losing his hope. God may just be watching, but that doesn't mean He doesn't have a plan. He's not going to let Lucifer and Michael win, so He sets something in motion to ensure Sam, Dean, and Castiel all stay in the fight.</p><p>Meanwhile, Gabriel was TRYING to mind his own business. Of course, that was before God threw John Winchester at him with no explanation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love resurrected!John fic, but when I can't find what I want to read, I write it myself. I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at [FictionalNutter](fictionalnutter.tumblr.com) on Tumblr.

Gabriel was minding his own business. No, he  _was_. He was absolutely minding his own business, doing the job he'd been doing for far longer than anyone could properly fathom, least of all those stupid, interfering mortals that--

All right. Gabriel might have been a  _little_ distracted. That wasn't his fault though. He'd only been trying to urge the Apocalypse on. Okay, that sounded bad, but it wasn't. The sooner Lucifer and Michael got their rocks off, the sooner Gabriel could go back to pretending his family wasn't torn in half irrevocably. At least, that  _had_ been the plan.

Sure, once upon a time he'd wanted to stop the whole thing from happening in the first place, but  _some people_ just suck at learning the helpful lessons being taught to them. Well, Gabriel was prepared to admit to a little bit of fault there. The plan had been to desensitize Sam Winchester to his brother's inevitable death so he wouldn't get sucked into everything that would lead to Lucifer's release. Obviously that particular object lesson hadn't worked, but Gabriel still thought that was at least partly Sam's fault for being so goddamn stubborn and codependent.

Still, Dean's words in that warehouse had been completely uncalled for. Gabriel was  _not_ a coward. It wasn't like he wanted his brothers to kill each other, but what choice was there at this point? It's not like Lucifer was going to just waltz right back into his cage, and Michael sure as hell wasn't going to be any help.

Maybe Gabriel had been thinking about it. A lot. Maybe he liked the Winchesters, and maybe he didn't want the Earth destroyed.

Still, Gabriel didn't actually have a plan, so instead he was working. Work at the moment was a single father that had just successfully won custody of his two daughters. Their grandmother on their mother's side had been trying to get custody taken away from the father, since she was convinced he'd murdered his wife, her daughter. Any evidence was circumstantial, and he'd never even been arrested. Gabriel, having waited for the justice system to do it's thing, was now in the process of setting up all the necessary evidence to actually take the man to trial. After all, he was guilty. The grandmother was the best option for those kids, and once Gabriel jerked the asshole around a little bit, he'd be ready to confess to the 'heart attack' he'd faked in his wife.

Gabriel was putting the finishing touches on his plan, which so far included making his victim suffer multiple heart attacks in a row in sympathy with his deceased wife, when a violent popping sound and loud thump came from behind him.

 _No one_ sneaks up on Gabriel. It doesn't happen.  _Ever_.

Gabriel whirled around, prepared to see an enemy, or at the very least a frenemy. Most of the gods he knew would fall into the latter category. They also had the best chance of finding him without alerting his attention first. Instead, Gabriel saw something far more confusing.

"Who the hell are you? Where the hell am I?" The demands came from the bristled and gruff mouth of the, until recently, deceased John Winchester.

Gabriel only recognized him because he'd done his research when he'd first come across Sam and Dean. The children of prophecy? Hell yes he did his homework. John was already long dead by then, of course, but that didn't mean Gabriel didn't know what the guy looked like. Hell, he could construct a portrait out of Skittles if he had the time and inclination.

"Answer me!" John yelled, his tone showing off that air of military command only truly perfected by those who had served in combat. Gabriel wondered what it must have been like to grow up with that kind of commanding tone in charge of you at all times. Not even his Father was quite so...intense.

"Look, Winchester, I don't know why you're here or how the hell you're even alive, but I'm in the middle of something, so your issues are just going to have to wait, okay?" Gabriel turned away, knowing that the hunter didn't have any weapons, least of all something that could kill him. He'd nearly been done anyway, and it couldn't hurt the eldest Winchester to cool his heels for a minute or two.

"Who are you?" John insisted, his voice dangerously low.

Sighing heavily, Gabriel turned around and folded his arms. "Look, this is not going to be a short conversation, and frankly, I don't even know why you showed up here. I mean, what the hell am I supposed to do with a bonus Winchester? The other two are bad enough!" There was a chance mentioning Sam and Dean was a bad idea, but Gabriel wanted to see how John would react.

The eldest Winchester froze, his eyes narrowing. "You know my sons?" He asked warily.

Gabriel snorted. "Who doesn't?"

"You a hunter?" John asked, raising an eyebrow. He seemed aware he wasn't armed, and his stance reflected the resulting tension.

"Not in that sense," Gabriel hedged. He hunted assholes, which given Sam and Dean's input, wasn't considered a legitimate career choice by the hunting community. Oh well. He was a Trickster, not a pinnacle of morality. Although, he was an archangel, as Dean had oh-so-forcefully reminded him back in the warehouse.

"You said I was dead," John stated, seeming to finally catch Gabriel's earlier comment.

"What, you don't remember being dead?" Gabriel asked absently, focusing on his work.

"...no," John admitted. "I think I believe it though. How long?"

"I don't know, four years?" Gabriel guessed. "Somewhere around there. I wasn't paying attention when you kicked it. I sort of read the Cliff's Notes after the fact." With a final thought, he was done. The kids would be safe with the grandmother, and the widower was about to have a pretty nasty couple days, followed by a long trial and longer jail sentence. Normally Gabriel would stick around, but apparently he had another job to take care of.

"Four years?" John asked, his tone clearly doubtful. "So it's 2010?"

"Yup," Gabriel replied, popping the 'p.' He snapped his fingers, and suddenly he and John were in Gabriel's apartment. He honestly didn't care if John knew he was a supernatural creature, and he was more comfortable at home. If he was in charge of a resurrected hunter, he was going to handle it on his terms.

"WHAT ARE YOU?" John roared, his body tensed in a defensive crouch, his back to the wall.

Gabriel ignored the implication of defense entirely, going to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of vodka and a carton of limeade. "You want a drink? I've got beer." He didn't, actually, but he could snap some into existence without any trouble. Sam and Dean drank beer, so dear old Dad probably did too. He set about combining a generous amount of vodka with the limeade into a glass, eyeballing the amounts. He couldn't just snapped that himself too, but he liked to mix up the amounts so it always tasted different. Finishing, he stuck the liquids back in the fridge and turned back to the hunter, glass in hand.

"What. Are. You." John hissed through clenched teeth. The hunter was clearly outside of his comfort zone, which Gabriel would have enjoyed immensely, just given how tense and unamusing the man was, but Gabriel still didn't have any idea what the guy was doing with him in the first place.

Sighing heavily, Gabriel moved over to his sofa and plopped down, facing the tensed hunter. "I'm an archangel," he said, his tone serious for the first time. If Sam and Dean already knew, what could it hurt to tell the other Winchester?

"Bullshit," John replied immediately. "No such thing."

"Great, now that we've got that out of the way, how the hell are you alive?" Gabriel asked, eyeing the hunter without any real hope that there'd be a clue. The only one who would've bothered to bring someone like John back from the dead was God, which meant Castiel was right - He was still out there. Gabriel had already been weakening in regards to the ridiculousness of the whole save the world lark his brother and the Winchesters were on, and this would be the final straw if he was right. If God was sending dead Winchesters to Gabriel's door, then Gabriel was going to do whatever it took to stop Lucifer and Michael. God staying out of the way to give His angels free will was one thing, but if He was interfering at all, it was because He still had a plan. Gabriel, rebel though he may be, had never fallen. He was still a loyal servant of his Father, and that trumped anything his brothers did.

"Don't change the subject," John protested, looking increasingly frustrated and murderous.

Gabriel hadn't ever known John, and he wasn't particularly fond of the guy so far. His sons were all right, if a little uptight, but Gabriel really wasn't liking their father. He wasn't prepared to just drop John off with Sam and Dean though. First, he cared just enough about their well being to not want to scare them half to death, and second, this still felt like his responsibility. So, how the hell was he supposed to figure out what to do with a freshly resurrected hunter?

An idea came to him, and Gabriel grinned at John, who immediately looked wary again. "Sit tight," Gabriel instructed. He snapped his fingers, freezing John in time. That would keep him out of trouble until Gabriel had a chance to explain himself to someone who'd probably try to kill him.

Snapping his fingers again, Gabriel appeared in Bobby Singer's living room, turning to see the hunter pointing a shotgun up at him. "Nice reflexes," Gabriel commented. His brow furrowed as he took in the wheelchair. That was new. Of course, it had been a few years since he'd seen Bobby, but he was almost disappointed to see that the hunter had been injured. Well, maybe he could do something about that after he managed to get Bobby to be an ally.

"Get the hell outta my house," Bobby demanded, not one ounce of fear present in his expression or tone. Gabriel was impressed.

"I take it Sam and Dean filled you in on me?" Gabriel asked. It was a reasonable assumption, and would save him time if Bobby had already gotten the run down of the whole television fiasco.

"Gabriel, right?" Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Sure shocked me. Explains why you ain't afraid of weapons though. I'm fresh outta archangel blades or I'd gut you on principle."

Gabriel had to admire that. "I don't suppose you could put down the gun, then, so we can talk?" He asked.

"Why?" Bobby asked, looking genuinely curious. "Ain't like it's gonna hurt you."

"No, but it just feels like less of a conversation," Gabriel pointed out, enjoying himself immensely. He should have spent more time with Bobby before. Although, the guy had been trying to stab him, so there was that chink in the relationship.

"Fair enough." Bobby set aside the shotgun. "Mind telling me what you're doing here? Last I heard, you wanted my boys to bend over for your brothers."

Gabriel winced. "All right, so I don't actually want that," he admitted. "I thought it was the best way out of a bad situation, but I'm coming around to the whole screw the apocalypse way of thinking."

"How's that?" Bobby asked, clearly skeptical. He relaxed into his wheelchair, giving Gabriel his full attention.

Pleased that the hunter had let down even some aspect of his guard, Gabriel decided to be honest. "Dean called me out, told me I was a coward," he said with a huff. "I thought about it for awhile, and was pretty well convinced he was right and I needed to do something."

"Then what?" Bobby prompted. His expression was open and curious, and he was almost leaning forward.

"That's actually why I'm here," Gabriel hedged. How exactly did you tell someone that a friend of theirs was back from the dead? Although, Gabriel acknowledged, Bobby did actually have some practice with that, since Dean had done it last year.

Bobby waited, looking at Gabriel with annoyance when the archangel didn't continue right away.

"Okay, look," Gabriel finally said. "I've got kind of a weird situation on my hands, and I don't want to involve Sam and Dean until I know what's going on for sure. You're neutral ground, mostly. I need somebody to help me with this, and you seemed like a good option. You're smart, and you're invested in the situation."

"All right, that's enough butter on the bread," Bobby grumbled. "You going to explain yourself?"

"I was working," Gabriel began, rolling his eyes when Bobby scowled at his terminology. "It was an asshole, same as always," Gabriel defended himself. "Murdering asshole, to be specific." When Bobby relaxed a little again, Gabriel continued. "I turn around, and I've been given...let's call it homework, because it sure as hell wasn't a present."

"Quit beating around the bush," Bobby huffed. "I want an explanation already."

Not sure he could properly prepare Bobby for what had shown up, Gabriel sighed and snapped his fingers. John Winchester appeared in the room, unfrozen and disoriented. He turned until he spotted Gabriel, and an angry look came over his face before he spotted Bobby, and a myriad of expressions flashed across his face.

"Shit." Bobby breathed the word more than he spoke it. "John?"

"100% human," Gabriel reassured him. "I'm like 90% sure God gave him to me, but I don't have the first clue why. He's kind of rubbing me the wrong way though, and I thought you might be able to figure out why the hell he's here."

"Bobby, who the hell is this guy?" John demanded, glaring at Gabriel. "Since when are you on wheels?"

Bobby held up a hand. "One thing at a time. That's Gabriel, he's an archangel. The wheelchair is new this year."

"That reminds me," Gabriel piped up. "Are you cool with that or do you want me to just fix it?"

Blinking, Bobby looked up at him in surprise. "What, my legs?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Sure. I wasn't sure you'd let me, but I figured I'd offer."

There was a pause, where even John stayed quiet, before Bobby nodded. "Yeah, go ahead."

"Bobby-!" John tried to protest, but Bobby held up a hand to stop him.

Gabriel could have just snapped his fingers like usual, but he bent down and touched Bobby's legs, feeling that something more sincere was warranted here. "I fixed the atrophy," he said, gesturing as he spoke. "You shouldn't have any issues, except maybe a few balance things for a day or two."

Bobby got to his feet in silence, taking a few steps with obvious trepidation before turning back to Gabriel with gratitude clear in his eyes. "Thank you, Gabriel," he said sincerely. After a pause, he inclined his head towards John. "I'll help you with your problem."

John huffed through gritted teeth. "I want answers, and I want them now!"

"Oh, shut up," Bobby huffed. "You sound like a child. C'mon, kitchen. I want a beer, you're going to need a beer, and Gabriel can snap up whatever the hell he wants."

That was how one hunter ended up sitting at the kitchen table, beer in hand, while the other paced across the room with his beer, reveling in the ability to walk. The archangel straddled a chair, a martini glass with something pink in it cradled in one hand.

"So, you think God did this?" Bobby asked, gesturing towards John. "Why?"

"Hell if I know," Gabriel said with a shrug. "It's His style though, and no one else would care enough to try. Plus, resurrection is hard. Takes a lot of energy."

"That why Cas seems so week these days? Did he burn out in the first place when he..." Bobby trailed off, giving John a guarded look.

Gabriel got the message. So, no major spoilers about Sam and Dean until they knew more. That made sense, and he nodded at Bobby, appreciating the man's forethought. "Good thought," he said. After a beat he realized there'd been a question he'd neglected to answer. "No, my little brother started to fall from Heaven. I'd imagine the others are worsening the descent, which is why he's no doing so hot. I might be able to help, but I'd need to talk to him." Gabriel thought about that for awhile. He'd never fallen, so there was no limit to his access to Heaven. There was a chance he could help restore Castiel, but it wouldn't be easy.

"All right, setting that aside..." Bobby continued pacing, his expression thoughtful. "No one benefits from this except the boys, presumably."

John perked up at that, but was ignored.

Gabriel nodded. "Stands to reason this is a gift of some kind, but there's gotta be a reason."

"Sure as hell shocked your ass into gear," Bobby pointed out.

"Yeah, but God didn't have to throw a dead Winchester at me for that," Gabriel huffed. "I was already leaning that way anyway. John isn't for me."

Bobby nodded, accepting that. "So God thinks Sam and Dean need their father?"

"Because they do," John emphasized, glaring between the two.

Gabriel waved him off. "Not necessarily," he said, addressing Bobby. "It might be more of a lesson. Dad loves stuff like that. Where do you think I got it from? What did you hear from them last? Did anything happen?"

Bobby's expression went dark. "Hunters came after them," he spat. "Because of..." he trailed off, but Gabriel knew he meant the apocalypse. "Shot Sam, then Dean. They were in Heaven for a few hours, long enough to apparently find out from an angel named Joshua that God knows what's going on, but isn't planning to stop it. Apparently Cas is depressed, and Dean is just sorta coasting. I don't know how the hell Sam is. He wouldn't tell me and Dean isn't talking to anyone right now."

John's expression was torn between skepticism and horror. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but was cut off by Gabriel.

"So I'm right!" The archangel enthused. "It is my Father!"

"How do you figure?" Bobby asked. John was looking at Gabriel too, clearly interested.

"Look, God isn't just ignoring all of this," Gabriel explained, getting excited. "He's  _watching_. The whole point of this was to give us angels free will. I figured it was just what was going to happen, but this isn't my Father's plan, it's Michael's. God is clearly with Sam and Dean, or He'd never have given them a message. He's already brought Castiel back to life from what I hear, and now He's roping me in by giving me an object lesson to deliver to the horse He's betting on. This is  _great_ news!"

Bobby didn't look convinced, but he certainly wasn't arguing. "All right, I can buy that," he decided. "So we find Sam and Dean?"

Gabriel clapped. "We have a plan!" He exclaimed, a broad grin on his face. It was kind of awesome feeling a sense of purpose. He hadn't really noticed the lack of one until there was something there to focus on. He could get used to doing his Father's will again.

John remained quiet, but his expression was calculating. He didn't know what had gotten into Bobby, or what kind of magical creature was bewitching everyone, but as soon as he found his sons, they were going to take it out and eliminate the threat for good.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Sam Winchester ducked just in time to avoid a hurtling frying pan, which embedded itself handle first into the wall behind him. "DEAN!" He roared, impatience starting to get the best of him. This is why they tried to  _avoid_ poltergeists. They fought back way worse than most monsters.

"I'm  _WORKING ON IT_!" Dean snapped, his voice and footsteps echoing through the floorboards as he ran from corner to corner upstairs, trying to place the last of the sachets.

Sam had covered the first floor pretty quickly, but he was used to ducking flying objects by now. That didn't mean he liked it, and he was well past ready to be out of the house. It might have gone faster if they'd had Castiel along, but the angel was mopier than Dean these days, and that was saying something.

The buzzing of Sam's phone snagged his attention, and he pulled it out just far enough to recognize Bobby's number. They were almost done, and he was mostly playing a game of deadly dodgeball at this point, so Sam figured, what the hell? "Hey, Bobby," Sam managed to say, breathing a little quicker than normal as he sidestepped a candle holder flying in his direction.

"Am I interrupting something?" Bobby asked, his voice wry. He knew damn well they were on a hunt.

"We're almost done," Sam assured him. He looked up just in time to see a set of fondue skewers lined up to spear him, and dropped to the ground, grunting as he rolled out of the way. "Shit!" He exclaimed, looking up at the skewers embedded in the cabinet doors. "Poltergeist," he added for clarification.

"You handling it?" Bobby asked, knowing they were. He liked to check up on them, which Sam could understand.

"It's done!" Dean called from upstairs, sounding exhausted and triumphant.

"Handled," Sam relayed to Bobby, his tone firm. "What can we help you with?"

Bobby made an awkward choking noise, like he wasn't sure what to say. "Well, I got a weird situation here I need you boys to weigh in on."

"Define weird," Sam prompted, his eyes narrowing. It wasn't like Bobby to hem and haw, and that alone made Sam curious. He needed something to focus on or he'd go crazy. After Heaven, everything just felt broken.

"Hang on." Bobby did something with the phone, probably held it against his shirt, and said something to someone else. Holding the phone back up, he said, "Tell me where you are. Apparently this can't wait however long of a drive it'll be."

"Minnesota," Sam replied, holding up a finger as Dean walked in, mouthing questions at him. "We were headed towards some demonic omens when we got sidetracked by the poltergeist."

"This is more important," Bobby said firmly, seeming absolutely certain of that. "Motel name?"

"Uh..." Sam wasn't actually sure. He hadn't been paying attention when they checked in. "Dean, what's the motel called?"

Dean shrugged. "How'm I supposed to know? Who's on the phone?"

"Bobby. Do you have the room key?" Sam held out his hand, waiting for Dean to hand over the key. Flipping it over, he redirected his attention to Bobby and said, "Crystal Skies Sleep and Stay, room 18."

The older hunter repeated that information to whoever he was with, then to Sam said, "All right, don't freak out, but you're about to get a visitor."

"Wait, who--" Sam started to ask, but the sound of wings took the words right out of his mouth. Gabriel was standing in between Sam and Dean, looking pleased with himself. "Bobby, what the hell?" Sam asked, his voice low, not taking his eyes off their visitor.

"Look, Sam, just listen to him, okay? I'll see you in a minute." Bobby hung up before Sam could argue further.

"Come to torture us again?" Dean challenged, glaring at the archangel. "How the hell did you even find us?"

Gabriel snorted. "Please, that's so yesterday. I have bigger fish to fry. Plus, I'm on your side now. You're welcome."

"Wait, what? Since when?" Sam demanded, bewildered. Gabriel could make him feel off kilter like no one else, and this time was no exception.

"Since today," Gabriel said, looking pleased with himself. "I mean, I was thinking about it, but then my Father decided he wanted me involved."

Sam and Dean's attention snapped to the archangel, Sam looking hopeful while Dean looked angry. "You spoke to God?" Sam asked, his voice both skeptical and reverent.

"Not exactly," Gabriel admitted. "He gave me an assignment though."

"How do you know it was God?" Dean challenged, still looking upset.

Gabriel tapped his head. "Trust me, I know. No one else has any reason to do what He did."

"You going to tell us what happened or keep leaving breadcrumbs?" Sam prompted. "I take it you're here to escort us to Bobby's for some reason, right?"

"Bingo, Samsquatch," Gabriel agreed, ignoring the face Sam made at the nickname. "I've got a little surprise for you two. Well, more than one, but we'll work our way up." Reaching out, Gabriel touched the shoulders of both Winchesters, and they all vanished, reappearing in Bobby's living room.

"What the hell?!" Dean demanded. "The car and all our gear is still--" He was already moving, and cut himself off when he caught a glimpse of the Impala out one of the windows.

"I got your stuff before I got you," Gabriel announced. "Please, give me a little credit."

"I'd agree that a little credit is due," Bobby said, walking into the room with his arms folded across his chest, fully prepared to enjoy the shock on his boys' faces. He was not disappointed.

Both Winchesters looked viscerally shocked. Dean took a step forward, his eyes wide and clearly unbelieving as he stared unabashedly at Bobby's legs. Sam stared for a moment, then his gaze shifted to Gabriel, who was looking between them all with a pleased smile.

"You did this?" Sam asked quietly, still looking at the archangel.

Gabriel shrugged. "Seemed like the thing to do," he said, making his words more casual than he really felt.

"All his idea," Bobby added, shrugging. "I didn't even know it was an option 'til he offered."

"Thank you," Sam said, his tone fervent.

"Uh, yeah, thanks," Dean added, his tone awkward but no less sincere.

"All right, girls, quit gawking," Bobby chided them, coming the rest of the way into the room and taking a seat by his desk. "Now, on to the big deal, and the reason Gabriel decided to get all up in our business."

"Yeah, why are we here? What's going on?" Dean turned to Bobby for answers, not willing to address Gabriel more than he had to. "Answers would be good."

"Ground rules," Bobby said firmly, waiting until both Winchesters nodded before continuing. "Don't freak out. You're going to be surprised, but what you're about to see is one hundred percent real. Gabriel confirmed it. We're pretty sure God did it, because no one else would bother."

"What are you so worried about?" Sam asked warily, looking between Gabriel and Bobby, neither of whom was giving anything away. "Your vagueness is making me even more concerned."

"I told you," Gabriel huffed at Bobby. "This is a rip the band-aid off kind of deal."

Bobby scowled. "There ain't a good way to do this at all. You nearly gave me a heart attack, how do you think they're going to react?"

"They're still in the room and can hear you!" Dean growled, growing increasingly annoyed. "Just get it over with already!"

Not waiting for Bobby's say so, Gabriel snapped his fingers, retrieving a freshly un-frozen-in-time John Winchester from the upstairs bedroom where they'd put him for safe keeping. Bobby hadn't wanted to freeze him, but Gabriel had pointed out that it wasn't worth arguing with him when they could just go get Sam and Dean and preempt any of that sort of issue right away. Bobby had reluctantly agreed, and John had been frozen in time for the last half hour or so, not that he was going to notice anything he'd missed.

Dean had seen John appear first, and had gone stock still, too shocked to even react. "Dad?" He breathed, his eyes impossibly wide and even watering from a mixture of shock and uncertainty.

Sam saw him a split second later, and made an aborted move forward, coming to a stop next to his brother. He was too nervous to move, suddenly overcome with a wealth of emotions, both positive and negative, and unsure how to react.

"Dean," John breathed, looking relieved. A beat later he turned to give his youngest a warm smile, adding, "Sam." Stepping forward, he pulled both boys into a hug. There wasn't really room for three full grown men to hug in that space, but they made it work. There wasn't really another option.

When they finally pulled away, Dean continued to stare at his father while Sam turned to Gabriel. "God gave you our dad?" He asked, his tone conveying his skepticism.

"I know, I thought it was weird too!" Gabriel exclaimed, feeling slightly rewarded when Sam had to fight off a smile. "I was thinking about you guys, and how I felt about your cause, and then 'poof,' there he was behind me. Obviously I can't do anything with him other than deliver him to you guys, so that's what I did. After consulting with Grumpy, obviously."

"I can hear you," Bobby groused.

Ignoring him, Sam's brow furrowed and he asked, "But you didn't speak to God, right?"

"It's God, Samsqautch," Gabriel said with quiet sincerity. "I know it is."

"Without proof, how do we know Michael didn't do this to improve his odds of getting a functional vessel?" Sam challenged.

Dean's head whipped around, immediately interested in the conversation. "Sam's right," he said, glaring at Gabriel. "Your holier-than-thou brother already possessed Dad once, so why not bring him back to give it another try when I'm not bending over for him?"

"Excuse me," John interrupted, his tone sarcastically polite. "Assuming angels are real, which we have absolutely no proof of, I've never been possessed by one. Why are you two so at ease with this creature? Bobby's one thing, being taken in by the healing, but you both know better!"

Dean looked mildly chagrined, but didn't join his father's attack of Gabriel. Sam ignored his father completely, turning back to Gabriel to continue the conversation. "You know it's a possibility," he said.

"It's possible, but not likely," Gabriel countered. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to bring someone back from the dead?"

Sam shrugged. "Lucifer made it seem pretty easy."

Dean gave Sam a strange look, but didn't question the comment. Gabriel, on the other hand, wasn't going to let that go. He was the only one in the room with a direct line of sight to Sam's eyes, and so only he really saw the look on Sam's face when he spoke. Gabriel didn't doubt that his brother had made a promise to bring Sam back, because Sam was exactly the type to threaten to take himself out of the picture for the good of everyone else. Gabriel had pegged the kid as a martyr from day one. What Gabriel saw in his eyes though, that was experience talking. Lucifer had already brought Sam back, Gabriel would bet money on it.

"We came back to life like last week," Dean pointed out. "Not for the first time, either." He glanced at John as he said this, wincing when he saw the look on his father's face. He wasn't looking forward to that conversation.

Gabriel sighed heavily, like they were all morons. "All right, crash course in resurrection, since I'm the only person here with that power. Demon deals don't count, okay? That sort of power has different rules." Gabriel eyed all the WInchesters as he said this, knowing their history with demon deals. None of them looked particularly abashed, so he rolled his eyes and continued. "As far as regular angels go, if you get enough of them together, you can bring someone back, as long as they haven't been dead more than a year or two. Archangels have more power, so they can do it alone. Or, they could get someone who's been dead longer, but it requires so much effort it would essentially knock them on their ass for a few months to recover. God, no limits. Is that clear?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "So your point is that Michael wouldn't resurrect Dad because it would cost him too much power, and he wouldn't risk that with Lucifer in play."

Gabriel snapped his fingers and a shiny gold star sticker appeared on the front of Sam's shirt. "I knew you were the smart one!"

"What about Raphael?" Dean demanded, crossing his arms. "He seems pretty gung-ho for team Michael, and he's not as essential to the plan, obviously."

Gabriel shook his head. "Raphael may be on Michael's side, but he's too self-serving. He'd never make himself so weak for something that  _might_ work. Besides, the angels know you Winchesters are too stubborn for something like that to work anyway."

"All right, that's it," John groused, pushing his way into the midst of the conversation. "Everyone keeps talking as if I'm not even here, and I'm sick of it. I'm done being pushed aside. I want to know what's going on, and I want answers  _now._ "


	3. Chapter 3

John's words, reminding both brothers in an instant that he was present and real, sent both Sam and Dean into a stiff pose of respect, looking to their father for further instruction. Sam might have rebelled against the instinct, but he knew John was right. He deserved to know what was going on.

Bobby, on the other hand, was less impressed with John's demands. "You sound like a toddler," he informed the resurrected hunter, rolling his eyes when John turned to glare at him. "Yeah, you need answers, and we're getting there. We also have a hell of a mystery to figure out, not to mention the damn apocalypse, so you can sit tight for a minute without getting your panties all bunched up."

Dean looked a little shocked at Bobby's words, but relaxed a little as his surrogate father spoke. Bobby was right. John did deserve answers, but he wasn't in charge anymore. Dean had a whole list of reasons he wanted to punch his father in the face, but the angry part of him hadn't quite caught up with the part that was just so damn shocked and happy to see his father alive.

On the other hand, Sam barely repressed a smirk at Bobby's words. No one had ever been able to cow their father like Bobby, even if it didn't work half the time. There was a reason they respected the hell out of the man. "We need to work as a team," Sam said, continuing Bobby's theme. "Dad, we'll tell you what's been going on, okay? I'm sorry, we're not trying to exclude you. It's just hard to wrap our heads around the fact that you're here, and we need to find out why."

John eyed his youngest for a moment before giving a stiff nod. "Fair enough. Resurrection doesn't happen every day. Although I'm getting the sense that it's a sight more common than it outta be in this family."

Sam shrugged. "Only twice so far for me," he said mildly, appreciating the way his father's eyebrows shot up at that.

"Same, twice," Dean added, avoiding his father's gaze. He wasn't looking forward to telling the story of how he sold his soul for Sam and broke in Hell. 

Sam shook his head. "No, Dean, you're at over a hundred."

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but caught sight of Gabriel's mildly chagrined expression and a wave of realization washed over him. The Mystery Spot fiasco. "I forgot," he admitted, looking guilty at the admission. He knew from experience with Sam's continuing aversion to Asia that Sam would never have the luxury of forgetting.

"I didn't," Sam confirmed Dean's thoughts, looking at Gabriel with an expression that was more sad than angry.

Gabriel sighed heavily and stepped forward, towards Sam. "I'm sorry. Honestly. I'm mostly sorry that it didn't work, but I'm also sorry I picked traumatizing you as my method. You didn't deserve that from me, and it wasn't nearly as entertaining as I tried to pretend it was."

Dean held up a hand before Sam could speak. "What do you mean you're sorry it didn't work?" He was vaguely aware of John's expression behind him, but he wasn't ready to explain yet, and this was important.

Gabriel shrugged. "You were dying. Sam needed to not go into batshit crazy revenge mode. I thought if I desensitized him enough before it happened, he could let you go and move on. Clearly I underestimated your codependency."

Sam looked visibly shocked. "You were trying to stop me," he stated, his eyes wide. "You didn't want the apocalypse. If you didn't want it, why the whole TV land fiasco?"

Sighing heavily, Gabriel folded his arms across his chest and attempted to fight off a sullen expression. "I've made a habit of doing whatever I think will be best for my own immediate survival and continued happiness. A few years ago, that was try and help you not go after revenge when you lost Dean, which I failed at. A few months ago, it was try and force you two into your roles to get the whole damn thing over with, which I also failed at. Dad appears to be telling me to stop looking out for me and to start working with you, which surprisingly doesn't sound all that terrible."

Dean examined Sam's expression for a moment, curious about the mixture of emotions he saw there. Sam should have been angry with Gabriel, but his expression seemed so understanding and almost sad that Dean wanted to take him aside and have a talk, which was the antithesis of Dean's normal way of operating. He resolved to talk to Sam later anyway. If Gabriel was on their side, it would help for Dean and Sam to be on the same page as far as how to handle him. In the meantime, Dean turned back to see his father's impatient face.

"Should we get drinks before we jump into all this?" Bobby asked wryly, waving his hand vaguely in reference to the whole story they had to fill John in on.

"And Cas," Dean said, his forehead furrowing. "He should be here for this. He's a big part of this story."

"He hasn't been answering our prayers since Heaven though," Sam pointed out. "He probably won't come."

"Not even when he finds out about Dad?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow as he gestured to his father.

Sam shrugged. "You can try. He's pretty out of it right now though."

Gabriel huffed. "I'll find him. He's upset about Dad, and I'm probably the best one to pull him out of that. Go ahead and start without me. I wasn't involved for most of this story anyway. I'll bring the little angel that could back with me when I find him." Without waiting for anyone's input, Gabriel vanished, leaving the three Winchesters and Bobby alone in the living room.

"So," Bobby announced, heading towards the kitchen. "Whiskey or beer?"

"What do you think?" Dean snarked, following him. "C'mon, Dad. Might as well sit closer to the booze."

John grunted as he got to his feet, following along with Sam towards the kitchen. "I get the feeling I'm not going to like this story," he mused, his tone a few steps short of hostile.

Sam looked extremely uncomfortable, but he didn't comment. He took a seat next to Dean, wanting the support of his brother, but a look at Dean made him wonder if he'd receive it. They'd been off ever since Heaven, and this conversation was going to bring up a lot of unresolved issues between them. They'd improved a little since Sam's epic screw up last year, but Sam was more than a little terrified that bringing it all up again would destroy the progress they'd made toward being brothers once more.

Bobby set down tumblers of whiskey in front of all of them, then looked to John and kicked off the conversation. "What do you remember?"

"Dean was dying," John replied immediately, swirling the whiskey in his glass.

"You made a deal," Dean accused, his expression tight. They'd never known for sure, only guessed or had it hinted at by others. It would be a whole new thing to hear John admit it.

"You're my son," John said, as close to a confirmation as he was ever going to give. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam's face spasm painfully, but his youngest schooled the expression quickly, pretending the reaction had never happened at all.

"Can we skip over everything and get to the graveyard?" Dean asked, looking between Sam and Bobby.

Sam shook his head, looking upset. "No, we have to tell him about Cold Oak. It's important."

Dean shifted in his seat, distinctly uncomfortable. The part of him that was angry with his father started to rise to the surface, and he decided to let it. It was about time he was able to tell John what he thought. "Look, Dad, what did you know about Azazel and his special children? The truth, no bullshit."

John spent a split second in shock at the command in his eldest's voice, but he shook it off and answered as briefly as possible. "I know he used his blood to tie them to him and make them powerful. He wanted to create a demon army."

Sam felt betrayed. He couldn't help it. How much pain could they have been spared if they'd known that a full year before Cold Oak ever happened? "Why didn't you say something?" He asked quietly, unable to keep the pain out of his voice completely.

"I didn't want to give you a reason to go after Azazel," John replied, looking his youngest in the eye, completely honest. "He'd only have gotten his hands on you that much sooner."

Sam's reaction was a half laugh, half sob. "How the hell is that any worse than what happened?" He demanded, though the question was rhetorical.

John's eyes narrowed. "Why? What happened?"

Feeling a little reckless, Sam leaned over the table, matching his father's stare head on. "You know what, Dad? If you wanted me dead, you should have done it yourself. Dean didn't deserve your bullshit, and all the hell that came after would have been avoided."

John jerked back as if he'd been slapped. He opened his mouth to argue, but Dean beat him to it.

"You damn well I would have done the exact same thing if it had been Dad instead of Jake," Dean snapped, his expression fierce. "Don't you dare assume that anything would have been better or different if Dad had carried out his bullshit order himself."

"Sam," John said, before he could be interrupted again. He waited until he had his youngest's attention before continuing. "I have  _never_ wanted you dead. Do you hear me? Never. What I told Dean was only a warning. I knew Azazel would be after you. I hoped you would fight back, but if he got to you and it was too late, Dean had to be prepared for that eventuality."

"It was never even a possibility," Dean growled, hostility radiating off of him in waves.

"Dean," Sam said quietly, his eyes downcast. "You know it was."

"That had shit all to do with Azazel," Dean countered. "Ruby and Lilith get the blame for that one."

Bobby cleared his throat, garnering everyone's attention. "You two are getting off track," he informed them. "Go back to Cold Oak, then work forward to the Ruby fiasco."

"We'd been encountering some of Azazel's children," Sam began. "Not many, but a few, and some of them were pretty homicidal."

"Some of them were  _fine_ ," Dean added, over emphasizing the last word.

Sam shrugged. "Anyway. Azazel kidnapped a bunch of us and stuck us in an abandoned town. I'd met a couple of them before, but some I didn't know. He wanted us to pick each other off, and the last one standing would be the leader of his demon army. One of them, Andy, could control thoughts and send mental messages, so I had him project some information to Dean so he could find us. He showed up with Bobby later, once they figured out where we were."

"Meanwhile," Dean picked up the story, "these kids aren't listening to Sam, so a few of them get killed, including Andy, who was a good dude. It ends up just being Sam and Jake, this military guy. Sam thought they had a truce or something, then Jake turned on him. Sam beat him but didn't kill him, right when Bobby and I got there. Sam and I were headed towards each other when Jake ran in out of nowhere and stabbed Sam in the back, severing his spine." Dean choked out the last few words, the memory bringing back flashes of emotion he hadn't truly felt since that night.

"Jake took off and went to Azazel," Sam continued quietly. "The new leader."

John looked horrified, and not at all sure what to ask. "What happened?"

"I died," Sam said, sounding almost wistful. "Not for long though."

"Dean." John leveled a heavy look at his oldest. "What did you do?"

"What do you think?" Dean asked wryly. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

John sucked in a harsh breath. "How much more time do you have?" He raced to do the math. This would have been in 2007, in the spring, if he was following the timeline right. They should still have plenty of time. Although, his subconscious reminded him, he'd died right after making his deal, with only enough time to see that Dean was going to be fine.

Sam was already shaking his head. "He only got a year, Dad."

John's brain short circuited briefly. So, his oldest son had been to Hell and back already? "How are you here?" He asked, unable to keep the wonder from his voice.

"I am the one that saved your son," Castiel said from the doorway, Gabriel at his heels. The younger angel looked worn and weary, but he moved into the room to stand near Dean.

"Who are you?" John demanded, startled by the addition. Why wasn't everyone else freaked out about the creatures that were popping in and out at will?

"I am Castiel," the angel replied, his tone firm. "I am an angel of the Lord, and a friend to your sons."


	4. Chapter 4

John's expression was skeptical, but Dean didn't allow him time to protest. "Cas, are you okay?" He glanced at the angel with concern, kicking out the chair next to him and gesturing to it. "You look like crap."

"I have been better," Castiel allowed. "I appreciate you including me in this meeting. This is a very important turn of events."

Gabriel snorted, moving to stand behind Sam's chair. "I'll say. Everything's shifting, guys. This means something, and it's up to us to figure out what."

"Before we talk about anything else," John interrupted, glaring at Gabriel and Castiel, "I want to know why two supernatural beings are just welcomed into your midst like it's no big deal."

Nobody replied right away. Bobby held up his hands in clear dismissal of responsibility for the question, looking to Sam and Dean. Dean opened his mouth, then closed it, seeming to be considering his words.

"Cas gets to hang around because he saved Dean," Sam said firmly. "He's earned our trust."

Castiel gave Sam an odd look, like he hadn't expected to be defended by the younger Winchester. He didn't say anything, but the look on his face transitioned to something almost like gratitude.

"What about the one with the mouth on him?" John challenged, shooting a challenging look at the archangel. "What's your justification for putting up with him?"

"He brought us you, didn't he?" Sam pointed out, raising an eyebrow. "I'd say that's worth something. He's never really been our ally, but I wouldn't say he was an enemy either. Jury's still out on what that makes us." He glanced back at Gabriel, who was looking at Sam with a curious expression.

" _Angels_ though?" John asked, grimacing like it was a dirty word. "They're a myth!"

"Dad, come on, seriously?" Dean cut in, rolling his eyes. "I've seen the shadows of Cas' wings with my own eyes, right after he pulled me out of Hell and literally rebuilt me. Angels are real."

John sighed heavily, looking between the five other men in the room. "All right, setting aside all of that for now. Not that I'm satisfied, but I want the rest of the story."

Sam tensed again, and Dean grunted, ruffling his hair with his hand. "Yeah, right. We left off at Cas pulling me out of Hell?" When John nodded, Dean hummed to himself, trying to figure out how to start.

"Let me tell this part," Sam said before Dean could pull his thoughts together. At Dean's questioning glance, Sam shrugged, looking away so Dean couldn't see his eyes. "It was my mistake. I should be the one to explain it."

"What mistake?" John prompted, sounding every inch like the military father they'd known in their youth.

Sam took a deep breath. "You remember us mentioning Ruby and Lilith before?" When John nodded, Sam continued, "Lilith was a demon. The first demon, actually. She held Dean's contract when he was going to Hell, and originally we thought taking her out might free Dean. Then Dean died, and Lilith went on the run. I tried everything to get Dean back, but no demon would deal, so I decided to go after Lilith. Even if she couldn't bring Dean back, she deserved to die." Sam paused, clenching one fist under the table as a wealth of emotions from his darkest days came rushing back.

Clearing his throat, Sam went on. "Before Dean died, we'd met this one demon who called herself Ruby. She was actually pretty helpful in the beginning, some of the time, anyway. She had offered to train me to use my psychic abilities to fight Lilith, but Dean didn't want me to, so I said no. Then, Dean was dead. I..." Sam trailed off, running a hand through his hair and blowing out a breath. "I almost died. Three times. I was tracking down bigger and bigger fights, mostly with demons, and going in half-cocked. Ruby kept showing up, trying to help, but I just pushed her away. She saved my life every time, then left when I wouldn't let her help me. That last time, I was in really bad shape. If she hadn't helped me, I probably would have bled out. She gave me something she said would help me heal faster. I tried it, and almost as soon as she poured it into my mouth I knew what it was."

Dean inhaled sharply. "You mean...the first time, you didn't know?" His eyes were wide, and he wasn't sure why he'd never known that before.

Sam shook his head. "Not that it matters," he muttered, sounding disillusioned. "I sure as hell knew every other time."

"What?" John demanded, looking concerned.

Sam smiled bitterly. "Demon blood. It's like superpowered crack for Azazel's kids. I don't know what it would do to a normal person, but it turns freaks into much more powerful freaks."

"Hey," Gabriel interrupted, snapping up an extra chair and taking a seat beside Sam. "None of that. You're not a freak, kiddo. You're stubborn as all hell and you've got some pretty significant anger issues, but you're not a freak. You were manipulated up the wazoo, which is hardly your fault." He paused, unsure where the sudden urge to defend Sam to himself had come from. It was all true, so why shouldn't he say something?

Sam scoffed, but gave Gabriel an almost shy glance of gratitude for the defense. "Well, whatever. Point is, all of a sudden I had enough power to exorcise demons with my mind. I wasn't good at it, at first, but Ruby helped me practice. Almost every time, the host was still alive when I was done. I was getting good at it, and Ruby gave me enough blood to build my power without making me power drunk all the time, so I was just enough under the influence to believe I was doing the right thing."

Not wanting to hear more, Dean cut in. "I imagine this is about where I come back in?" He asked, glancing at Sam for clarification. The younger Winchester nodded, waving at his brother and sitting back in his seat with his arms folded. A glance at John revealed that the oldest Winchester was doing his best impression of a dark storm cloud.

"Cas brought me back," Dean began, "but I didn't know angels were involved at first. I just knew I was back. I found Bobby first, and after proving I was real, the two of us set out to figure out where Sam was. We tracked him down, and eventually found him not far from where I'd popped out of the ground. Turns out the demons he was tracking were drawn to the area by my resurrection, he just didn't know it yet. Cas using all that power was a pretty big deal."

"If you didn't know angels were involved, how did you meet this...Castiel...in the first place?" John asked, giving Castiel a suspicious look and studiously avoiding looking at his youngest. 

Dean shrugged. "A friend did a seance, Bobby and I pimped out a barn, and we summoned him. There was lots of lightning and stuff. Very impressive." Dean shot a smirk at Castiel, who looked mildly amused by the description.

"Dean, you stabbed me," Castiel reminded him.

John looked a little bit proud of that. "At least you have some common sense."

Dean scoffed. "Right, that did nothing. Then you had to convince me you were actually an angel."

"I'm confused," John interjected before Castiel could reply. "If you came back, angels were involved, and Sam was...well, in trouble, what happened that led to this apocalypse you all keep talking about?" He glanced between his sons. Sam looked sad, and Dean looked angry.

"I'll answer that," Gabriel announced, ignoring the surprised looks he got from everyone else. "Let me give you a crash course in the apocalypse plan of Heaven. God took a vacation to allow angels the chance to try out the whole free will thing humans got back in the day. Surprise, surprise, but my brother Michael decides he should use this newly found freedom to start up the apocalypse, never mind that it's not ever supposed to happen without God's explicit say-so." Gabriel paused to roll his eyes. "Anyway, there's some timeline manipulation to make sure John Winchester and Mary Campbell end up together, and then boom, the two vessels are born."

"Vessels?" John questioned, his eyes narrowing.

"Michael," Sam said, pointing at Dean, "and Lucifer," he concluded, pointing at himself with a self-deprecating laugh.

The look on John's face was somewhere between shock and disbelief. He looked back at Gabriel. "Why them?"

"It's a bloodline thing," Gabriel explained. "Once they were born though, things really got rolling. Azazel came from Sam when he was six months old, killing Mary in the process. That had the side effect of tossing you all onto the road to become warriors, which was all part of the plan. Incidentally, it's the same reason Jess was killed. Sorry, Sam." Gabriel did look genuinely apologetic. "Azazel needed you back on the road, so that was his solution."

"I figured it was something like that," Sam admitted, the pain in his eyes reflecting the fact that that particular wound had yet to heal completely.

John looked like he wanted to say something, but he chose not to speak. "So, what happened next?"

"Everything went according to plan, mostly. There's hundreds and hundreds of seals, but only sixty-six need to break to start the apocalypse. So, Michael sends two worthy soldiers to manage the brothers Winchester, and gives them the goal of stopping the seals from breaking, nevermind that it's impossible." Gabriel snorted.

Dean's head whipped around, an accusatory glare directed at Castiel. "We never even stood a chance?" He demanded.

"I did not know at the time, Dean, I swear," Castiel informed him, sounding sad. "If I had, many things would have happened differently."

Gabriel huffed. "Lots of things were going on that you never knew about, Dean-o. For example, Uriel and Castiel were both under orders to make you fear and push Sam away, because that would make him easier prey for Ruby and Lilith. Not that Cas knew that, but Uriel sure as hell did. It was essential for the cage to open."

Dean didn't appear to be able to settle on one expression, although shock seemed to be the preeminent emotion on his face. "Wait, so none of that bull about Sam being in danger or being a danger was real?"

"Nope," Gabriel replied, rolling his eyes. "It was all part of the plan. Make you think Sam is evil so you'll just alienate him further, then he'll seek Ruby over you, and everything will slot into place. It worked, didn't it?"

Sam looked ashamed, and he wasn't meeting the eyes of anyone at the table.

"You were both played," Gabriel emphasized. "Really all three of you, since Cas didn't know about most of this until later. Anyway, Sam was told the entire time that Lilith had to die to prevent that final seal from opening. Obviously, as everyone here but John knows, the final seal was actually Lilith's death. Sam was manipulated into killing her with his powers, which then set Lucifer free."

"Dooming the whole world," Sam muttered under his breath.

"You set  _Lucifer_ free?!" John demanded, looking at Sam directly for the first time since they had jumped on this topic.

Sam met his eyes, the shame rolling off of him in waves, but he stood his ground. "I did. It's a mistake I'll regret for the rest of my life."

John seemed at a loss for words. "Sam, how far off the reservation did you go that trusting a demon ever seemed like a good idea?"

The words were far too reminiscent of words Dean had said, and Sam flinched as his father spoke. "It never seemed like a  _good_ idea," he clarified. "Just, the lesser of two evils."

"Clearly not," John corrected, his expression stern. Turning to Dean, he asked, "Where were you when Sam was releasing the devil?"

"Being held captive by one of Michael's flunkies," Dean replied promptly. "I eventually convinced Cas to take me to track down Sam. I'd tried to call him, but, well, that didn't work, so we tried to get to him before Lilith was dead. We were only a few minutes too late."

Gabriel was distracted by the spasm of pain that flitted across Sam's features when Dean mentioned the phone call. That was certainly interesting, but now wasn't the right moment to delve into it. "Aside from some apocalypse related battles, that mostly catches you up on the big stuff," he informed John.

John shook his head, clearly disagreeing. "No, I heard something about both of my children going to Heaven recently. I want to know exactly what happened."

"Hunters came after me," Sam stated, his tone matter-of-fact. "Not for the first time. They only killed Dean because they didn't want to risk him coming after them. We went to Heaven, found someone who had a direct line to God, found out God wasn't planning on intervening, and came back to life."

"Yeah, Heaven was real educational," Dean added dryly.

Gabriel's eyes narrowed as that same pained expression crossed Sam's face again. He was finding he wasn't a fan of seeing the kid in pain, especially when it didn't seem to be justified. They'd be having a talk about that.

"All right," John said slowly, rubbing at his temples. "This is a lot to process."

Sam had a theory that, had John been resurrected for longer than a day, he would have taken this entire load of information in a much more hostile manner. Even still, Sam was expecting to get a thorough yelling once John had processed everything well enough to be properly furious with him. Dean would probably get a talking-to for bringing Sam back in the first place. The only question was when to expect their respective lectures.

"Okay, putting all that aside," John continued, "what's the plan for stopping the apocalypse?"

Gabriel clapped. "Good idea! Let's come up with one of those."


	5. Chapter 5

As much as everyone agreed that coming up with a plan to stop the Apocalypse was a good idea, everyone also needed a break from the heaviness of the conversation that had more or less caught John up to where they were now. Dean had taken the first chance he got to go outside and work on the Impala. Not that it needed any tinkering, but he needed to do something with his hands, and there wasn't anything nearby he could kill just then. Bobby, freshly released from his wheelchair, was doing laps of his home, muttering to himself. It was his version of thinking out loud, though there'd be hell to pay if anyone tried to make fun of him for it. Castiel was watching Dean work on the Impala, but neither of them were talking. Dean didn't want to talk, and Castiel rarely felt compelled to talk, so the arrangement worked out well. John, the one element everyone was wary of, was on Sam's laptop and Bobby's Internet connection, doing his best to play catch up on the world he'd been absent from. Four years didn't seem like long enough for much substantial change, but the world had moved on without him a lot faster than he'd given it credit for.

That just left Sam, who had also left the house, walking out towards the back of the property without any goal in mind other than finding a place to think. Gabriel followed him, which Sam noticed but didn't protest. The archangel's weird need to defend Sam during their "update John" conversation had left Sam feeling oddly grateful towards him, so as long as he wasn't planning to be obnoxious, Sam didn't see the harm in a little company.

"God thinks we need our dad back, huh?" Sam spoke first, coming to a halt at the back edge of Bobby's property. He relaxed against the shell of a 1980-something Ford that would probably never run again.

Gabriel nodded, seeming more serious than Sam was used to. "That's my theory. I'm guessing it's got something to do with all that palpable tension between you two."

Sam winced. "Yeah. That just got worse after the whole Heaven thing."

The idea that a trip to Heaven had been harmful rather than helpful was distressing to Gabriel, but he tried not to show too much of his pain at the idea. "I'm curious about that," he commented, keeping his tone casual. "What happened?"

Sam pursed his lips, considering the question. "I'm not really sure. Heaven was...here, let me put it like this. What's your absolute favorite ice cream flavor?"

Gabriel blinked. "Strawberry, probably. Covered in strawberry syrup, of course." His eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"So, say that strawberry and syrup combo would be the best case scenario, the thing that would make you happiest. Now, if you got vanilla instead, it would still be good, right? Just not the best." Sam spoke with his hands as he tried to explain, his fingers gesticulating to punctuate his point.

With a flash of clarity, Gabriel understood. "Your Heaven was comprised of positive memories for you, but not your best memories," he stated, following Sam's train of thought now. "Good, but not great. Not the absolute best."

"Exactly," Sam confirmed, pointing at Gabriel. "Dean had a memory of our mom, but I didn't even have memories of Jess."

That startled Gabriel, and he looked at Sam with surprise. "You didn't have any memories of your girlfriend?" He asked, the shock completely evident in his voice.

Sam looked pained. "None. No memories of her, of Dean, of either of my parents, not that I even remember Mom."

"You were with Dean in Heaven though," Gabriel pointed out. "Usually when soulmates share a Heaven, they either have joint memories or memories that are special to the individual that they want to share with the other person. Heaven doesn't deliberately feed you memories of each other because you're already together."

Sam shook his head with a wry smile. "Dean had a memory of us though, before he found me."

The pieces clicked together in Gabriel's head, and he felt distraught on Sam's behalf. How had Heaven fallen so far that something like this was allowed? "Dean was pissed that you didn't have memories of him?" He asked, knowing the answer already.

Sam's hand drifted unconsciously to his pocket, resting against something within it. "Yeah, you could say that."

"Did any of his memories upset you?" Gabriel asked, eyes narrowing just slightly.

"He had a memory of Mom..." Sam trailed off. "She couldn't see me, just him, so I didn't get to..." He paused, sighing heavily. "It wasn't my memory, so it shouldn't matter, but I still felt a little left out, I guess."

Gabriel was decided - no more manipulation. The Winchesters had been through way too much of it, and it was destroying what little remained of their fractured bond.

"Do you think," Sam began before Gabriel could speak again, "that maybe Heaven didn't work for me because I wasn't supposed to be there?"

Gabriel was speaking before the question had even had time to fully settle. "Samuel Winchester," he growled, using the hunter's full name to ensure his attention, "this is not your fault, nor is it some sort of cosmic punishment. The fact that Heaven troubled you both so much that you would even consider that is an affront to all that Heaven is supposed to be. I haven't been in years, but hearing you describe it is physically painful."

Sam looked taken aback. "Then what--"

"You. Are. Being. Manipulated." Gabriel over-emphasized, gritting the words out. "Although in this case, I think Dean learned the lesson Zachariah was preaching a little too well. You were given facsimiles of what Heaven is supposed to be to turn you against each other. Clearly Michael's cohorts are learning, since it apparently worked."

The dawn of understanding fell across Sam's face. "Dean and I should have been sharing memories that were important to us, not seeing polarizing memories like the ones we saw," he mused, repeating what Gabriel had already said. "Zachariah has the kind of power to screw with Heaven like that?"

Gabriel glowered, irritated. "He shouldn't, but Michael doesn't appear to be being judicious with the authority he's given out. My brother was always a stick-in-the-mud, but I can't imagine he'd approve of Zachariah's methods if he knew even half of what his lacky was doing."

"I would tell Dean, but I'm not sure he'd believe me," Sam said with a resigned sigh.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and tilted his head, quiet for a moment. He straightened and winked at Sam. "No worries, kiddo. I gave Castiel the run down, and he'll fill in the stubborn wonder."

Sam let his lips twitch towards a smile. "Why are you being nice to me all of a sudden?" He asked, giving Gabriel a jokingly suspicious glance. "I always thought you must hate me."

Despite how light the hunter kept his tone, Gabriel still flinched. "Yeah, well, maybe I was using the wrong methods, but my heart was in the right place." Giving Sam a sideways glance, Gabriel shrugged and added, "To be honest, I respect the hell out of you, Samsquatch. Not that I'll ever admit it if you tell anyone I said that."

Sam looked visibly startled. "Why?" He demanded, too shocked to be polite.

Gabriel huffed. "I still think you should have learned something from the whole Mystery Spot thing, since my goal was to stop you from heading down the path that let my brother out of his cage. Still, learning you two are soulmates explains why it didn't work. Anyway, point being, you're a stubborn, ridiculously smart, good-hearted, strong man. I may not want to admit it, but I even have an inkling bit of respect for that asshole brother of yours."

Sam snorted, grinning now. "Thanks, I think. If you respect us so much, what the hell was up with TV Land?"

Sighing heavily and grunting, Gabriel through his hands up in the air. "Look, all I figured was that if I hadn't been able to prevent my brother's rise, the least I could do was force to end quickly. Then Dean has to go pulling at what I have left of a conscious, and then Dad decides to get involved and drop Johnny Boy off with me, so now I don't really have a choice but to help." He paused, giving Sam an appraising look. "I don't think I'm going to mind as much as I thought."

Quirking a smile, Sam dipped his head in acknowledgement. "I don't know that I'll ever be grateful for your attempts to teach me, but I can understand why you did it, so that'll have to be good enough. Besides, you're proving to be an asset now, so I can't say I mind having you around."

"Thanks for that winning recommendation, kiddo," Gabriel said wryly, snapping his fingers and abruptly holding two frosty dreamsicle sodas in glass bottles. "Want one?"

Sam was about to refuse, but thought better of it. "You know what? Sure. What the hell?"

The two clinked their sodas together and fell into a comfortable silence. Sam couldn't help but feel that he'd made a strong ally out of the archangel, which was quite a shock. Gabriel himself was feeling uncommonly attached to the young hunter, and prayed to the Father who'd taken a renewed interest in him that nothing would go wrong.

* * *

 

Dean had been out from under the Impala switching tools when Castiel received Gabriel's message. The distant look on the angel's face was enough to pique Dean's interest. "What's up with you?" He asked, wary.

Castiel came out of his not-quite-trance and blinked a few times. "Gabriel was updating me on information he has just learned from his conversation with Sam. I believe he wants me to pass on that knowledge to you."

Huffing with disinterest, Dean laid back down and rolled under the Impala, looking for anything else he could do to take his mind off of everything. "Is it actually important?"

"I would say so," Castiel replied mildly. "As it concerns an additional manipulation of Zachariah against the two of you."

Sighing, Dean rolled himself back out so he could look at the angel. "What did he do this time?"

"I was unaware of the extent of your time in Heaven," Castiel said apologetically. "If I had known, I might have been able to help clarify this sooner. As it is, Gabriel was able to discern what happened from the explanation Sam gave him."

"Get to the point," Dean prompted.

"Heaven, particularly for soulmates, is meant to comprise of shared best memories, or individually stellar memories one wishes to share with their soulmate. In essence, the fact that you and Sam both experienced completely separate memories, despite being together, is concerning." Castiel actually looked upset about it. "Sam told Gabriel that he believed his memories, while good, were not his best. He cited the absence of any family and his former girlfriend as being his primary logic."

Dean blinked and sat up, resting his back against the car. It hadn't even occurred to him that Sam hadn't had memories of Jessica. He'd sure as hell noticed his absence and their father's, but for Sam not to have memories of Jess? That didn't make sense, and Dean felt a little guilty for not noticing. "Wait, so what does that mean?" He asked. He hadn't given the whole soulmates thing much thought, but hearing Castiel say it like it was a fact made him realize that it really was something he should be paying attention to. Apparently the fact that they'd been in Heaven together was a lot more significant than he'd given it credit for.

"Zachariah, presumably, altered your Heavens so you would see memories designed to pit you against each other. You were both led to similar places of rejection. You, feeling as though Sam enjoyed abandoning you, and Sam, feeling as though he wasn't supposed to be in Heaven. I believe he was particularly hurt by the memory of your mother that did not see him." Castiel's tone implied more sadness than the angel usually expressed when it came to emotions, which made everything more poignant somehow.

Dean was quiet. He hadn't given Heaven any sort of thought in that direction, but now that Castiel said it, he felt like an idiot. The memory of holding his amulet over the trashcan, making sure Sam saw him drop it...he felt a little sick. Sure, he and Sam hadn't really been working all that well as a cohesive team anymore, but for them to be so far off the same page that Zachariah's plan had worked? Dean felt irrationally angry, which was an emotion he was going to need to get a handle on before he talked to his brother.

"I wonder," Castiel continued, "if Gabriel was not given John for the express purpose of fixing what is broken between you. After all, were you not at your most united when your father was involved?"

"Huh." Dean considered that. It was true in a couple different ways, and Dean could even appreciate the logic of John's presence forcing the brothers back together. He and Sam had at various points been united against, because of, for, and in spite of their father. Dean was not the same loyal soldier to his father he had been once, and John's mere presence sent strong urges through Dean's big brother senses, all of them screaming for him to protect Sam. Not that Sam couldn't protect himself, but things were so different now Dean didn't know that he would.

Castiel might have had a point, but Dean couldn't imagine John was here for the sole purpose of pushing the brothers back together. They could have worked out their issues on their own, eventually. There was a reason John was here, and Dean was wary to discover what it might.

As though summoned by thought alone, John appeared on Bobby's deck, within Dean's eye line from where the Impala was parked. "Break time is over," John called, clearly expecting to be obeyed. "Last I checked there was an apocalypse to avert!"

Dead sighed and hauled himself up, accepting Castiel's offered hand to leverage himself off the ground. He dusted his jeans off and inclined his head towards the back of the property. "Let Gabriel know, would ya? He can tell Sam, assuming they're still hanging out or whatever. I'm going to find Bobby."

Castiel dipped his head, relaying the message quickly to his newly recovered brother. He wondered, not for the first time, why Gabriel had so completely come over to their side. He was grateful, of course, but imagined that more than their Father's seeming interest had motivated his brother. Given the interest Gabriel had shown for Sam Winchester, Castiel felt he could hazard a guess. The real question was why, of all people, Gabriel had fascinated himself with the younger Winchester. Castiel resolved to keep an eye on the situation. For as much as he had become Dean's angel, however unintentionally, he considered Sam a friend. Regardless of Gabriel's intent, Castiel did not wish to see his friend hurt.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam could have predicted that John would try to take charge of the entire company gathered in Bobby's living room, but he didn't, mostly because he'd just assumed John would realize he wasn't the most informed and the automatic top of the food chain. If anything, Gabriel should be in charge, as the most powerful in the room. Or Dean, as the natural leader, or even Bobby, as the one with seniority and the wisdom that had been keeping them alive for as long as they'd known the man. That wasn't even bringing into account Castiel's angelic powers or Sam's own experience and research prowess. The point was, John was not the best equipped to be in charge of this little congress.

Of course, nobody had thought to see if John knew that. He didn't.

"So, the way I understand it, the whole Apocalypse thing can't happen if Lucifer and Michael are out of the picture," John began, sounding for all the world like he intended to lay out a battle plan.

Sam sneaked a glance at Gabriel, who looked highly amused, but made no move to interrupt the Winchester patriarch.

"Lucifer is the primary concern," Castiel clarified helpfully. "Without someone to fight, it is reasonable to assume that Michael will retreat back to Heaven. He is not the type to seek revenge." Pausing, considering possibilities, Castiel added, "Raphael would be a larger threat in that area, I believe. Michael being present would lessen that risk."

John didn't seem all that pleased by the input, but waved a hand like it didn't matter. "Fine, so Lucifer is the primary target. What do we know?"

"He's pissed off at humanity in general," Gabriel offered lazily. "Mostly he's pissed at our Dad, but he's definitely not getting a crack at him, so he'll settle for destroying His creation."

That didn't do anything to alleviate the angry expression on John's face, and he turned towards his sons, nodding just once to acknowledge the archangel's input. "What else?"

"The Colt doesn't work on him," Dean added, scowling at the memory of the costly mission.

Sam flinched when Dean spoke, the weight of the guilt he carried for those deaths still threatening to smother him. Clearing his throat, he added quietly, "He wants me."

John's attention snapped to Sam. "Why?"

"I'm his vessel," Sam reminded him. "We told you that already. Michael wants Dean."

John shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. Why doesn't he just show up and take you? Why are you still running around free, both of you?"

Sam let out a mirthless laugh. "Because he's confident, that's why. No matter what, Lucifer is absolutely positive he's going to get me."

Dean gave his brother a sideways glance loaded with concern, unsure how to address that. "Michael is just kind of waiting for me to get desperate enough to say yes," he admitted. "Zachariah, who is an absolute bastard dickface that works for Michael, keeps trying to push the process along, but mostly he just pisses me off and reminds me why I hate angels." Dean paused, glancing at Castiel in what he probably thought was a subtle flick of the eyes. "Most angels."

"Cas engraved our ribs a long time ago," Sam added. "Angels can't find us unless we tell them where we are, and Cas is the only angel we interact with. Except Gabriel, but until today, that wasn't usually on purpose."

"Thanks," Gabriel said wryly, rolling his eyes.

John scowled at Gabriel, presumably for daring to speak. "So, Sam, have you spoken to Lucifer? I get the impression that you've both met these archangels."

Sam nodded reluctantly, not eager to share that part of the story.

"I've only met Michael once," Dean admitted. "In the past, actually. Turns out time travel is a thing. I'm the one who convinced you to buy the Impala. You're welcome."

John had been about to say something else, but was understandably derailed by Dean's comment. "Wait...what?" He narrowed his eyes, seemingly scanning his memories for confirmation. Eyes going wide, he gaped at his eldest for a moment. "Holy shit."

Castiel leaned infinitesimally towards Dean, brow furrowed. "Should I be insulted?" He asked the hunter in a stage whisper.

Dean snorted with laughter, leaning forward and coughing in an attempt to not choke on his own saliva. It took him a moment to get his laughter under control, and when he did he realized he was getting mixed reactions to his response from the room. Gabriel looked smug for some bizarre reason, Castiel looked pleased with himself, John looked annoyed, Bobby looked like he was fighting not to be amused himself, and Sam looked...well, if Dean didn't know better he'd say his brother looked fond.

John shook his head, not willing to follow the rabbit trail further. Gesturing to Sam, he said, "and you?"

"I talk to Lucifer almost every night," Sam said reluctantly. He could have lied, but that probably wouldn't do him any good at this point. He wasn't looking forward to anyone's reaction, especially since Dean would probably see the secret as another betrayal.

John looked upset, but not nearly as upset as everyone else in the room.

"Since when?!" Bobby and Dean demanded in unison.

"Since the first time he came to talk to me, when I was in Oklahoma," Sam said, avoiding eye contact with them both. He risked a glance at the angels, both of whom looked genuinely upset.

"You should have said something, Sam," Castiel told him, sorrow evident in his voice. "When my grace was stronger, I might have been able to help."

"Screw 'might,'" Gabriel announced, moving forward and pressing two fingers to Sam's temple before anyone had a chance to react. "Now you can stop the whole suffering in silence thing and actually get some damn rest."

Sam lifted his hand halfway to his temple before letting it fall, looking up in Gabriel in unchecked wonder. "Are you serious?" He asked, his tone quiet and cautiously helpful.

Gabriel's expression softened into something almost tender. "Serious as I'm capable of, kiddo. He can't get in any more. Sorry you had to deal with it for so long. I know my brother, and I'm sure he's been a manipulative bastard in there."

A dark shadow crossed Sam's face. "Yeah, something like that."

"What did you just do?" John demanded, looking torn between relief and concern.

"Blocked my brother from accessing Sam's head," Gabriel explained with a shrug. "I may not be quite as powerful as he is, but I'm still an archangel, and I can set up some damn good wards when I want to. Lucifer isn't getting past this, not unless he's in physical contact with Sam. Since he doesn't know where you are, it shouldn't be a problem."

Sam sagged in his chair, the relief almost overwhelming. "Thank you," he said fervently. "I can't even remember the last time I had a full night's sleep."

Dean still looked upset, presumably because he hadn't known Lucifer was visiting in the first place. "Why didn't you say anything?" He demanded.

Sam shrugged. "What difference would it have made?"

The fact that Sam genuinely hadn't thought of Dean as a potential source of comfort or even a confident for the very real threat to his mind rocked Dean back on his heels a little bit. When he thought about it though, he couldn't blame his brother at all. When was the last time they'd operated as a unit, or that he'd even given Sam the impression that he trusted the kid? No wonder Sam didn't want to tell him anything. Not to mention Sam's unbelievable martyr complex. Dean was starting to become aware of how much suffering Sam was putting up with because he felt like he deserved it. He had the distinct feeling that he didn't even know the half of it. That wasn't a conversation to have now though, and he definitely didn't want to try convincing Sam to open up to him in front of their father. That definitely wasn't going to work.

John held a hand up, getting everyone's attention again. "Do we have any way of actually killing Lucifer?"

Sam felt more than saw Gabriel's flinch at the suggestion. He understood completely. "Do we have to kill him to defeat him?" He asked, glancing at Gabriel with what he hoped was a look of support. It was the least he could do.

Gabriel looked both shocked and grateful, and nodded readily. "The Cage can be reopened," he confirmed. "The problem is getting him back in it, but opening the Cage itself isn't actually that hard."

"Well great," Dean said, clapping once and holding out his hands. "So, what do we need?"

"All of the Horsemen's rings," Gabriel announced.

"Oh, is that all?" Dean snarked, looking annoyed at Gabriel's apparent lack of concern.

Sam, on the other hand, was suddenly a lot more interested in the conversation. "That's all we need?" He asked Gabriel. When the archangel nodded, he turned towards Dean, who looked annoyed. "No, Dean, we already have War's and Famine's, remember? It's not going to be easy, but it sure as hell isn't impossible."

John, who seemed to realize that his meeting was moving on mostly without him, regained the attention of the room with a purposeful clearing of his throat. "So, all we need to do is track down these Horsemen and take their rings?" He asked, unaware of this particular element of the Apocalypse.

"There are only two others," Sam explained quickly. "Dean and I fought War months ago, and Famine was right before our impromptu trip to Heaven. Pestilence and Death are the other two, and we should be able to track them. Or, Bobby should be able to, anyway."

Bobby rolled his eyes, but moved towards the computer. "I'm on it. Who first?"

"Pestilence will be easier to find," Gabriel suggested. "Let me figure out where Death is. If we're lucky, you two might be able to just convince him to hand the ring over. He's the reasonable type, and not a fan of chaos the way the others tend to be."

Sam and Dean both looked at Gabriel with curious surprise. "Huh." They made the noise more or less as one, and both felt a peculiar pang at the familiarity the unison reminded them of.

"That's a good start," John declared, nodding as though the whole thing had been his plan. "Once we find one of these Horsemen, we can move out. Sam, can I use your laptop again?"

"Sure," Sam said, disinterested in whatever his father's objective was. If he had to hazard a guess, it would be that John was about to go research the Horsemen. It's what he would do if confronted with a major entity he knew nothing about. Sam was more interested in the particular problem of how to get Lucifer back into the Cage. A few tendrils of potential plans were curling around his mind, and he would need to explore them further to determine what sort of monsters of ideas they belonged to.

"Sam," Dean said, getting his brother's attention. When Sam looked up, blinking in surprise, Dean jerked his head towards the yard. "Can we talk?"

Raising an eyebrow at the unexpected question, Sam gave a hesitant nod, getting to his feet and following his brother to the door.

"Sure, we'll just wait here," Gabriel called after them sarcastically.

Sam paused, turning back to give the archangel a fond yet withering glare. "You have wings. You are fully capable of occupying yourself for an hour or so."

Seeming to accept that, Gabriel turned to Castiel with a sly grin. "Hey, bro, wanna see Vegas?"

Castiel barely had time to furrow his brow in confusion when Gabriel snapped them both out of the room.

Dean peered into the room around Sam to see Bobby left behind with a long suffering expression, resolutely ignoring them all. "That's not going to end well," Dean observed.

Sam rubbed at his forehead. "Probably not. Yard?"

"Yard," Dean confirmed, and the two brothers resumed their trek outside. There was a long overdue discussion to be had.


	7. Chapter 7

The boys headed for the Impala by mutual unspoken agreement, leaning up against the side of the car in a practically uniform motion. Sam took special note of it, largely because he and Dean hadn't seemed particular in sync lately. In fact, they'd been out of sync since Dean had returned from Hell. Sam might have tried to lay part of the blame for that on Dean back then, but he was seeing things differently these days. It didn't really matter whether or not Dean was at fault. Sam's sins at this point far outweighed his brother's issues. 

"So," Dean prompted, raising one eyebrow. "Zachariah's a dick."

Sam was startled into a laugh. "You say that like it's a recent revelation," he replied, relishing the attempt at camaraderie.

Dean shrugged. "He keeps being a bigger dick. Is there a world record for that kind of thing?"

Snorting, Sam shook his head. "Not that I'm aware of."

There was enough of a pause that the silence because uncomfortable. Dean cleared his throat and sighed heavily. "I'm sorry you felt like you had to deal with Lucifer alone."

Sam looked up at his brother, startled. "Dean, that's not something you need to apologize for. I didn't keep it a secret to be a martyr or something. It just wouldn't have made a difference. Cas didn't need to drain himself faster, and you would have just been frustrated and helpless, which wouldn't have done any good. I know how to hold up against a manipulative asshole." He sighed heavily and tucked some stray hairs behind his ear. "Just, you don't have to feel guilty for that."

Dean shrugged. "Can't help but see it as a symptom though." He gazed in the direction of the house, pursing his lips slightly.

"Symptom of what?" Sam asked when Dean didn't continue by himself.

"Cas has this theory about Dad," Dean replied, still looking at the house instead of at his brother. "He thinks God dropped Dad off with Gabriel to fix our relationship."

Sam blinked. "You and Cas?" He asked, his forehead furrowing at Dean's phrasing.

Dean rolled his eyes and finally looked back at Sam. "No, you and me, dumbass. Cas and I are fine. You and I are the ones who've been off balance for who knows how long."

Sam winced. "Not like there wasn't a reason for all that," he pointed out quietly.

Dean groaned loudly. "Sam, if we don't get past all this crap now, it's never going to happen. It'll just fester until we never talk and can't stand to be around each other. I don't want that, okay? Trying to be honest and open here, for once. Work with me."

Scowling slightly, Sam countered, "I don't want that either, but since when have we been able to actually talk about stuff? We don't process through our issues, Dean. We shove our way through them and pretend there was never anything there."

Dean huffed and scratched at his neck. "Yeah, well, maybe we should stop that."

"If you're serious, I'm completely on board with that, but we're going to need some ground rules," Sam said pointedly, crossing his arms for lack of anything better to do with his hands.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Such as?"

"We need to be honest with each other." Sam paused, then added, "about everything."

"Agreed," Dean said immediately. "Starting with no more 'I'm keeping secrets to protect you' bullshit."

Sam winced, forced to look away. He was just as guilty of that as Dean was. "Agreed," he echoed Dean's statement. "Where do we even start?"

"Heaven seems like a good one to clear up," Dean offered, looking chagrined. "Especially since I'm the one who screwed that up, and I still need to apologize."

There was a strong part of Sam that wanted to dismiss Dean's admittance of culpability in the whole Heaven thing, but the stronger part of him wanted more than anything to hear Dean apologize, so he stayed quiet. He'd get his turn to apologize soon enough, he was sure.

"I shouldn't have reacted without thinking," Dean said, hesitance clear in his voice as he sought out the right words. "I should have known Zachariah was messing with things, and as soon as I found out I felt like an idiot for reacting the way I did. I said some pretty shitty things, and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry, Sammy."

"Thanks," Sam murmured, feeling both relieved and uncomfortable in equal measure. He and Dean didn't do this, so it was hard to reconcile the part of him that wasn't used to it with the part of him that wanted to pull his brother into a hug. He wasn't sure yet if this was a hugging conversation. "I'm sorry I didn't say something right away," he offered. "I knew it didn't feel right, but even I didn't guess we were manipulated to that extreme."

Dean shook his head. "You shouldn't have had to say anything," he grumbled. "Or at least, I should have asked Cas before I just assumed that everything was on the up and up. We knew Michael was running the show up there, so it should have been obvious that we were open to be messed with as soon as we arrived."

Sam inclined his head in Dean's direction, agreeing with that. "So, we learn from our mistakes and move on, hopefully actually talking to each other this time," he said wryly. 

"We always did make a great team," Dean offered with a grin, glancing back in the direction of where they knew John was on the laptop.

Sam followed his brother's gaze, guessing his train of thought. "So Cas thinks God sent Dad back so that you and I would be a team again?"

Shrugging, Dean replied, "Something like that. I mean, it's great to have him back, it is, but you can't deny that he's already rubbing you the wrong way." He raised an eyebrow at Sam, challenging him to argue with the assumption.

His mouth twisting a little in spite of himself, Sam didn't disagree. "I missed him," was all he said.

"I did too," Dean insisted. "But you have to admit, we've always been able to rely on each other more than we have on him. We had to."

Sam spared a moment to recall the days when Dean wouldn't have stood for any negative discussion about their father at all, let alone said something derogatory himself. It's funny what a death threat against your sibling and a lifetime of closely guarded secrets could do for a relationship. "You saw how that meeting went," he said, his lips crooking up in a smile. "Dad already thinks he's in charge again."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, things are different now. I'm glad he's here, but he's going to have to learn how to be a team player." Dean himself had recognized the importance of working with others long before John had died, and been fully aware of how dramatically awful his father was at that particular skill. Dean, while not the most diplomatic hunter around, had made a point of being far easier to work with. When you needed backup, it was reassuring to know that the backup didn't hate your guts. John didn't have that reassurance in a lot of areas. Frankly he was lucky Bobby had even allowed him in the house.

"How long do you think it'll take him to stop looking at Cas and Gabe like they're going to turn into raging monsters at any second?" Sam mused, feeling more relaxed now that he and Dean were actually talking openly again.

Dean shrugged, but raised an eyebrow at Sam pointedly. "Gabe?" He asked, amusement clear in his voice.

Sam flushed, though he didn't really understand why. "How long did it take you to start calling Castiel Cas?" He challenged, raising his own eyebrow. The ongoing whatever that was between his brother and their angel friend was far more significant than Sam's recently developing positive relationship with Gabriel.

Rolling his eyes, Dean ignored the question, fiddling with the jacket on his zipper instead and looking uncertain.

Sam knew his brother well enough to know that meant Dean was gearing up to ask something he didn't want to ask. "Just spit it out," he said with a sigh.

"Why didn't you tell me that Ruby tricked you into getting hooked on the blood?" Dean asked quietly, looking at the ground. It was one of the things he'd most wanted to ask Sam since hearing his little brother admit it in the house earlier.

"She only lied about it that first time," Sam clarified. "There was an addictive component right away, but I still should have pulled away. I should have, but I didn't, because I knew it would make me stronger. Besides, what difference would it have made if I'd told you she tricked me the first time? I shouldn't have continued in the first place. I was still an addict on the path to freeing the literal devil." His tone grew more self-deprecating, but he fought hard to keep himself from sounding self-pitying. That was the last thing he wanted his brother to think he was doing.

Dean pursed his lips, considering that. "I hate Uriel," he said, suppressing a wince when Sam immediately looked to him with confusion at the seeming non-sequitur. "I can't hate Cas because I know he didn't realize what was happening yet," Dean continued, "but they both worked to make sure I thought you were a lost cause. They flat out threatened to kill you if I couldn't get you to stop your arrangement with Ruby."

That surprised Sam, although he felt as though it really shouldn't have. "When was that?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

"Before the rugaru," Dean clarified, wincing at the memory of how stern Castiel had been on the whole matter, and how awfully that entire hunt had gone.

"Oh," was all Sam had to say. He didn't want to think about Jack any more than he wanted to think about the way Castiel had been towards him when they were first getting to know the angel.

Dean grunted in frustration. "You were manipulated into the whole thing with Ruby, and I was manipulated into thinking you were an evil psychopath or something. We were both wrong, but we were both pushed into those positions. I hate that I believed it for even a second, I hate that you ever listened to Ruby, and I hate that this whole thing has pushed us far enough apart that we have to sit out here sharing our inner thoughts to get back on some sort of even footing!" He sucked in a breath and huffed it out.

Sam hadn't heard Dean rant quite like that in a while, especially not about what he personally felt. He wasn't sure how best to proceed, especially given how close Dean seemed to be to his yearly threshold for emotional conversations. "So, from now on, we talk to each other. If they're going to try and jerk us around, we need to be on the same page all the time," he said firmly. "All of the bullshit from last year cannot ever happen again."

Dean nodded emphatically. "Yes, never again. I'm done being pushed and prodded by Heavenly dicks!"

Sam jabbed his tongue into his cheek, trying valiantly to restrain himself from making any sort of comment about that declaration. When Dean caught his eye though, he lost it and cracked up laughing, unable to keep the giggles at bay.

It took Dean a second to catch up to where Sam clearly was, but when he did he flushed bright red, recovering a split second later to give his brother a good-natured scowl. "You know damn well what I meant," he muttered, unable to keep his lips from twitching in amusement. He stood upright, inclined towards the house.

A beat later, Sam joined him and they began walking back towards the front door, Sam wiping at his cheeks to make sure no laughter induced tears were adorning his face. He really wanted to rib his brother about Castiel - after all, he'd been given the perfect opening - but he decided that they'd already stepped around enough mines for one day. His hands drifted towards his pockets, patting absently to confirm the presence of a small horned figure. He didn't feel right parting with it yet; the wound was still too fresh. However, today was proof that not everything was lost between them. Maybe, just maybe, Sam could actually restore Dean's faith in him.


	8. Chapter 8

"I ain't killed him yet, but I'm about to," Bobby announced when Sam and Dean entered the living room. His fingers were curled tightly around the edges of his desk, clearly avoiding reaching for the gun laying next to his books.

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance, but Sam was the one to speak up. "Who?"

Bobby scowled, as if the question was particularly stupid. "Your daddy, idjit, who'd you think? Both sets of feathers are still off gallivanting across the country."

Abruptly reminded that Gabriel had dragged Castiel off to Vegas, or so he'd claimed, Sam wondered exactly how traumatized they should anticipate Castiel being when he returned. Then, the rest of Bobby's statement caught up with him, and his eyes narrowed with concern, matching the cautious look Dean was giving Bobby.

"What'd he do?" Dean asked warily. "He's not even in the room!" They could faintly hear noises suggesting John was in the kitchen, and nothing else seemed amiss.

Bobby slowly extricated his fingers from his desk and crossed his arms. "Look, boys, you know I love you both like my own kin, but the last time I saw John before this, I was pointing a shotgun at him. Turns out returning from the dead don't cure pigheadedness!"

"Well I could have told you that," Dean muttered, rubbing at his eyes in frustration. "All right, I'll talk to him, figure out what's up. He'll get with the program eventually." Dean made an attempt at confidence with the statement, but Bobby and Sam didn't look convinced. "Yeah, good luck, right?" Dean huffed and moved towards the kitchen.

Sam was still caught up in the easy admission of love Bobby had offered up. It wasn't that he'd never said it before, it was just the ease with which he'd made the declaration, like it was an obvious thing that just needed to be restated for context, rather than because they might not know it. Sam didn't realize he was smiling fondly at Bobby until the older hunter turned to scowl at him.

"Stop that," Bobby demanded. "We've got too much to do for you to stand around making that face at me. Air out all the damn estrogen and get to work. I could use your help hunting down Pestilence." Sitting back down at his desk, Bobby nodded to the chair on the end of the desk and gave Sam a pointed look.

Being invited to help Bobby research was one of the more common ways Bobby expressed his appreciation for Sam, and the youngest Winchester warmed under the invitation, though he quickly schooled his expression and sat down. "How far have you gotten?" He asked. As Bobby began to explain his process, Sam glanced in the direction of the kitchen, where Dean had disappeared with the intention of talking to their father.

Dean, upon entering the kitchen, had taken a moment to just watch his father hunched over the laptop, looking simultaneously fascinated and bewildered. "Dad, you look like you're discovering technology for the first time," he pointed out from the doorway, amused.

John blinked up at him, narrowing his eyes when he'd managed to shift his focus from what he was reading to his eldest. "Show a little respect for a recently dead man," he said a little gruffly, but with traces of the sense of humor he'd had once.

Taking a seat across from John, Dean snorted a little and leaned back, folding his arms. "So, why'd you piss Bobby off?" Direct was always best with John. Not that he always responded well to it, but he sure as hell didn't respond well to tiptoeing around an issue either.

John scowled. "Old man thinks I'm just going to roll over and let him boss me around. That's never been the way this works."

Dean attempted to be serious for all of a moment before he started laughing, unable to keep a straight face. When John looked insulted, Dean waved him off and took a breath, calming himself. "Dad, I hate to break it to you, but Bobby's not that much older than you are."

Looking thoroughly insulted for a split second, John didn't actually argue the point. Bobby was only a year or two older than John, or at least he had been when John had died. John had always liked to pretend he was eternally 35 though, which was about the age he'd gone from freshly widowed and newly aware of the supernatural to being fairly proficient as a hunter. Even with the extra years Bobby had gained while John was dead, it wasn't enough for John to comfortably refer to Bobby as old, not without indicating the same about himself.

"In fact," Dean continued conversationally, "if you factor in Hell, both of us are older than Bobby." He forced himself to maintain his relaxed position even as John shot him a sharp look, clearly not expecting him to make light of Hell. Neither of them were ever going to approve of the other's decision to sell their soul, so Dean figured being a little lighthearted about it was the best way to ever attain something they could pretend was acceptance of each other's choice.

"You should never have been in Hell," John grumbled, clearly not willing to let the topic slide now that Dean had brought it up.

"I ain't saying it was fun," Dean admitted, "but you're never going to get me to regret it." He knew it was something that still bothered Sam too, but what was done was done. Sam was still alive, and to one extent or another, that was all that had ever really mattered to Dean.

John studied him for a moment before nodding. "That I can understand," he admitted, a more contemplative expression taking over his face. He sighed heavily and rubbed a hand through his hair. "Look, Dean, I know I'm out of my element here. I can admit that, okay? But you have to understand - I protect my family. It's what I do, and I've always done that by taking the lead. It's instinct, and it kept you boys alive."

Dean held up his hands. "You don't gotta convince me. I understand just fine, Dad. The issue is that you're not best equipped to lead this shindig. Sam's always been the brains, whether or not you wanted to admit it, and Bobby's always been a better strategist than you. Plus, you want to talk about taking the lead to protect family? That's been my job for even longer than you've been gone. I might not always have done a great job," Dean paused, thinking of all the strife he and Sam had gone through since Hell, "but I did my damn best, which I know is all you ever did. Neither of us ever got perfect execution on that, but that ain't the point. Oh, and I know you're not cool with the angels yet, but you gotta at least trust Cas, for me. Jury's still out on Gabriel's deal, but I trust him enough not to screw us over, and he likes Sam for some reason, which is a pretty good indicator of his loyalties. Cas though, Dad, he saved me, and he pretty much abandoned everything he knew to protect me, and even Sam." Dean huffed and pursed his lips briefly. "Cut him some slack, for me."

Unused to hearing Dean talk so much, John sat back and considered his son's speech for a moment. "So where does that leave me?" He finally asked, raising an eyebrow. "I've been dead, so I don't have a spot in this narrative. Where are you planning on wedging me into this dynamic you've all got constructed for yourself?"

"Look," Dean said, leaning forward on his elbows and giving his father a level look, "you're still our dad. We," he huffed, scratching at his head before completing the sentence, "we missed you, okay? It's been hard, but we've made it work. If you try and wedge yourself in where you were before, you're going to end up breaking stuff." John looked a little insulted at the implication, so Dean shook his head before his father could interrupt. "You know what I mean, Dad. This time around, you're going to have to follow our lead. This is our fight, which, yeah, you're involved in, but the baddies are gunning for me and Sam, and you can't just stand up as general and fix everything. We're a team now. We don't even really have a leader, because all of us are different enough to contribute to the cause. We don't have an opening for a commanding officer, is all I'm saying. You can join the team though. You're always welcome to do that." He sighed heavily, unsure exactly how effective his speech had been.

John sat quietly for a moment, watching Dean and clearly thinking about what he'd been told. "Fine," he finally said. "I can't promise to be happy about it, but I understand." After a pause, he tapped on the table a few times and made a soft laughing noise. "To be totally honest, this isn't the first time you boys have found a commanding officer in me instead of a father."

Dean's eyebrows skyrocketed, and he stared at his father in open surprise. "Gotta admit, wasn't expecting that kind of confession out of you," he said, a little staggered. "You're not wrong, but you gotta know I never blamed you for that. I always understood why it was necessary."

"That's because you were made in that military shape like I was," John told him with a slight smile. "Things going the way they should've, I always thought you would've grown up to be a marine like me, then come back and had a big family."

"I never knew you thought about that kind of thing," Dean replied, unsure what to say. He didn't disagree with his father at all, but he was surprised his father had ever even considered what might have happened if their mother had never died.

John shrugged. "Lot of empty highway. Anyway, you may have done okay with a military structure, but Sam sure as hell wasn't designed for that. He's too much like your mother, except he was raised to be like me. No wonder we fought so much."

Dean gave his father a speculative look. "Sam's the one who'd really appreciate this introspective thing you've got going on," he said pointedly. While he harbored some resentment towards his father for the deathbed instructions about his brother and had enough distance from the man's death to feel resentment for some of the screwed up stuff about his childhood, he still didn't have the same kind of baggage regarding their father that Sam had. Sam needed the reassurance that this kind of conversation could offer a hell of a lot more than Dean did.

Looking chagrined, John nodded. "You're probably right." He didn't make a move to get up though.

Dean gnawed at the inside of his cheek for a moment, wondering if what he wanted to say was a good idea. "Screw it," he said under his breath. At John's questioning look, Dean sighed and leaned forward. "Dad, I need you to understand something. Apocalypse shit aside, Sam was  _terrified_  of becoming evil because of what Azazel did to him. When he found out what you'd told me, he thought that was confirmation that he was inevitably going to go evil. Dad, he  _begged_ me to promise to kill him if that happened." Dean paused, waiting for that to sink in. John looked troubled, but didn't respond. Dean closed his eyes briefly before opening them and continuing, "Sam made some awful decisions, and no one's denying that, least of all him, but at no point did he do any of it with evil intentions. He was trying to prevent the apocalypse, and he was screwed six ways from Sunday in the process. Some of that's on me, some of that's on him, and all the rest of it is on Heaven and Hell. Look, point is, that kid was never at any risk of going evil, but making us think it was possible opened us up for a lot of trouble. I've started trying to fix it, but I'm not the only person Sam needs to hear thinks he's not a monster."

John looked pained. "I already told him I never wanted him dead," he reminded his oldest. "My last words were only ever meant to be a warning."

"I think he knows that," Dean allowed, trying to be diplomatic, "but it's still an open wound in a lot of ways. I can only do so much bandaging before it's just going to need stitches."

John offered his oldest a wry smile. "I'll talk to him," he promised. Giving Dean a speculative glance, he added, "When did you become so insightful?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "We're talking about Sam, Dad," he reminded him. "When have I ever not been the expert on that kid?" His own woeful oversights since his return from the dead aside, at least.

About to reply, John was interrupted by the abrupt arrival of Gabriel and Castiel, both angels wearing an unnecessary amount of beaded necklaces.

Dean blinked at them, confused. "I thought you were going to Vegas, not Mardi Gras," he finally said with a frown. Castiel had over twenty strands of beads around his neck, and Gabriel probably had at least fifty.

Gabriel gave an exaggerated wink. "New Orleans isn't the only place you can earn your beads, Dean-o!" He crowed.

Remembering suddenly how beaded necklaces are traditionally earned, Dean's eyes grew wide as he tried to reconcile what he knew about Castiel with the type of person who flashed strangers for necklaces.

Catching Dean's eye, Castiel shook his head with what looked like genuine annoyance. "These belong to Gabriel as well," he said wryly. "At no point did my shirt become untucked from my pants."

Dean flushed at the statement, but before he could respond, Bobby, having only heard the latter half of the exchange, called out from the other room, "No angelic stripping in my house!"


	9. Chapter 9

Gabriel had shown an unprecedented level of insight by letting the situation in Bobby's house calm slightly, rather continuing to make a scene. Since Castiel had almost immediately gone back to Dean's side, Gabriel had taken a seat in the living room where Bobby and Sam were working and proceeded to snap up a comic book, sitting quietly and ignoring everyone else.

Sam had glanced up at Gabriel a few times, but it seemed that Gabriel was genuinely intended to let them work without interruption. Sam was still a little uncertain about everything that had come about since Gabriel had joined them, but he couldn't deny how nice it was to have the help, not to mention the support. For some reason, Gabriel had firmly settled himself into Sam's corner, and that meant more than Sam could fully explain even to himself. It wasn't that Sam had felt like he was stuck in an us vs. them situation, but he'd been struggling to get out of the hole he'd dug himself into with Ruby and Lucifer. That had left him without any real support system, other than obligatory devotion. That wasn't entirely true, but Sam still was trying to convince himself he had Dean and Bobby's trust, after spending quite a while trying to convince himself he was worth earning it back. He wasn't sure he'd quite achieved either goal, but with Gabriel it didn't matter. Gabriel seemed perfectly content to trust, believe, and support Sam, and that was enough of a confidence booster to even allow Sam to confess the past year and a half's sins to his father, which he could have never imagined himself doing before. Mostly because John had been dead, but that was beside the point.

It took Sam a few moments of considering Gabriel to force his attention back to Pestilence, but he did so reluctantly. The sooner the horsemen were gone, the sooner the Apocalypse was over, and the sooner Sam would feel redeemed.

Bobby had originally just been researching Pestilence himself, trying to understand the enemy before hunting him down. When Sam joined him, he passed that task on to Sam and started mapping out demonic omens across the country, hoping to cross reference them with anything they could find that sounded like Pestilence.

Sam had been through a couple of Bobby's resources before coming across something that triggered an idea. He took note of it and continued reading, only to find a similar comment in another book about the horsemen. Muttering to himself, he switched back to the original book, finding the page again and re-reading the passage that had originally caught his eye. Leaning back in his chair, he turned to the doorway and called out, "Dean, can I have my laptop back or does Dad still need it?" He kept his finger on the passage to mark his place.

Without responding, Dean entered the room a beat later, the laptop still open and gripped in one hand. "You couldn't have asked Dad?" He said quietly, one eyebrow raised. Castiel had followed him into the room but stayed by the wall, not seeming to see the need to follow Dean all the way over to his brother.

Sam made a face but didn't respond, taking the laptop from Dean and pushing the book out of the way so he had a spare part of the desk to set it on. The truth was that he didn't feel comfortable asking their father for much of anything yet, let alone yelling into the other room for it. It was silly and irrational, he was sure, but just because he didn't feel like he should be uncomfortable didn't mean that he wasn't. Asking Dean for stuff though, well, that he'd been doing for years.

"You got a hunch?" Bobby asked, tilting his chair so he could see the screen as Sam started typing. The maps he'd been working on were spread out over the rest of the table and covered in pen marks, but Bobby hadn't seemed to have reached any particular conclusion yet.

"Maybe," Sam murmured. "Something in one of the books," he vaguely inclined his chin towards the book he'd been reading, "said that Pestilence enjoys grandeur with his chaos. I doubt we've gotten close enough to the Apocalypse end game for him to be doing anything on a national scale, but that doesn't mean he isn't holed up somewhere doing his thing on a smaller yet still devastating scale."

"Which is why we call you the smart one," Gabriel interjected, his comic book vanishing as he came to join the group gathered around Sam. "Where are you starting?"

"News reports of CDC involvement in outbreaks," Sam explained, indicating the web page he'd pulled up. "This kind of stuff doesn't show up on our typical radars, and it would be exactly the kind of thing Pestilence would be doing, right?" He turned the statement into a question at the last minute, looking at Gabriel for an answer.

"You're on the right track, Samsquatch," Gabriel assured him. "Give me the headlines of the cases and I'll tell you if it's him or not. I'll recognize the MO when I hear it." He glanced towards John as the one remaining part of their group entered the room, then gestured for Sam to start.

"Uh, hang on, I'm skipping all the ones that are just advisory warnings. Here we go, massive spiking fevers all across a county in Maryland." Sam glanced up, only to see Gabriel shaking his head.

"Not enough grandeur," he commented, using Sam's word. "He's going to be trying to stay relatively under the radar, but he won't be boring."

Sam pursed his lips and continued reading, clearly skipping a few headlines as he went. "Looks like there's a few different STD outbreaks in different states in high schools, but that looks a little too low key too I'm thinking." He looked up to see Gabriel nodding and Dean smirking, so he shot his brother a chastising look before he moved on.

After a little more scrolling, Sam was startled into swearing. "Holy shit."

"What?" Everyone asked at once, Dean and Bobby leaning over Sam's shoulder, and John moving into a position where he could see the laptop.

"That'll be it," Gabriel said immediately, not even looking at the screen. "If it was bad enough to get that kind of reaction, that'll be it."

"There's a children's hospital in Atlanta that's been put under quarantine," Sam began, hesitating a little as he went. "Every single patient, every single kid in that building, has contracted dysentery." He felt like his face was pale from the horror, but he looked up to see confused amusement on Dean's face.

"Like in Oregon Trail?" Dean asked, at least seeming aware of the fact that it wasn't funny.

Sam scowled at him. "It can be deadly, Dean. That's why it's a way you can lose Oregon Trail. According to this, every time the doctors think the kids are improving, their symptoms flair up again and they all get worse. It's a miracle there haven't been any casualties yet. A lot of these kids are already terminal with something else."

"So we stop Pestilence, the dysentery goes away?" Dean demanded, looking between Gabriel and Castiel for an answer, even though Castiel didn't have the background with the horsemen to answer the question.

Gabriel nodded. "He's got a thing for those who can't protect themselves," he explained, anger mounting in his voice. "Kids, old people, whatever. All we need to do is get his ring, and he'll go away. Pestilence is a coward, and if you take away his power, he's not going to try and fight back." Gabriel paused, considering. "He'll probably have some demons though."

"Demons we can handle," Dean said confidently, aware of an approving nod from John behind him. Pausing, he asked tentatively, "we're not going to get hit with dysentery when we come after him...are we?"

Gabriel actually snorted. "Probably not, but that doesn't mean he won't hit you with whatever debilitating diseases he can conceive. Don't worry, Cas and I should be able to cover all of you long enough to take him out. You shouldn't suffer any major side effects."

Dean didn't look particularly reassured, but he nodded anyway.

"I guess I'd better get some gear together," Bobby announced, getting to his feet and grunting. "John, follow me. You can help me carry everything. Boys, make a plan." He strode out of the room, John reluctantly on his heels.

Sam and Dean exchanged glances, considering. Dean shrugged and waved a hand at Sam. "You're the tactical one, dude."

A little surprised at being given what seemed almost like command of the mission, Sam smiled to himself for a split second before returning to the laptop, intent on pulling up a map of the hospital. "All right, let's make this quick. I'm not leaving Pestilence free in a hospital full of kids for any longer than we have to."

Dean was looking at the laptop over Sam's shoulder, so only Castiel noticed the fond and proud smile Gabriel was giving Sam. Wisely, Castiel kept the observation to himself, but he filed it away for future consideration.

Internally, Gabriel was devoting part of his energy to praying. He kept one eye on Sam in case his consult was required, but the rest of his focus was on his Father. "So, Father," Gabriel prayed internally, "did you throw big, bad John Winchester at me just so I'd come help? Because I have to say, I'm getting the feeling that all of this has really lit a fire under the whole stopping the Apocalypse production. I mean, I figured you didn't want it to happen, but I don't understand why you wanted me to be part of this process. What do I contribute to this? What does John? I'm sure you could have achieved this result another way." Gabriel trailed off, unsure what he was protesting. It wasn't like he didn't want to be there. Without warning, he felt the back of his head receive a large swat, and a force pushed him forward so he stumbled towards Sam.

"You all right, Gabe?" Sam asked, his head snapping up to look at Gabriel in concern.

Surprised, Gabriel scratched at the back of his head and glanced behind him, but predictably there was nothing there. "Fine," he replied with a broad grin. "Apparently all that Vegas tequila decided to make its way to my feet."

Sam and Dean both gave him a skeptical look, but didn't argue the point.

Gabriel wasn't stupid. He knew what a silent chastisement from his Father looked like, and he knew damn well what it meant. So, this whole thing was about Sam. Somehow, Gabriel didn't really feel shocked by that. Well, he wasn't one to turn down a challenge. If God had a vested interest in keeping the world in one piece and the Winchesters, particularly Sam, alive, then Gabriel was going to do his best to help. Somewhere in there, he assumed there was a lesson waiting for him. He just had to figure out what it was. Castiel kept giving him pointed looks, which made Gabriel wonder if he ought to be consulting his brother. Maybe Castiel knew something he didn't.

Then again, after only a limited amount of time watching Dean and Castiel interact and a completely failed attempt to wriggle information out of Castiel in Vegas, Gabriel was pretty certain he knew something his brother didn't as well. Although really, it wasn't like either of them were being subtle. Gabriel glanced between the hunter and angel to see them each miss each other's gaze and almost snorted. Yeah, he was going to have to do something about that. Whatever Castiel felt like he'd figured out about Gabriel probably wasn't even half as interesting, since Gabriel was not nearly that unobservant.

A comment from Sam forced Gabriel to give his full attention back to the conversation. Right, Pestilence first, then introspection and self discovery, or whatever God wanted him to figure out.


	10. Chapter 10

"It's hot as balls outside," Bobby announced, slamming the motel room door behind him and stomping into the gathering with a scowl on his face.

"It's Georgia," Sam pointed out, rolling his eyes. "We came through this area as kids once in like November and it was still eighty freaking degrees."

Gabriel was lounging on one of the beds, a crystal bowl full of M&Ms balanced on top of one of his thighs. "Pestilence likes warmer areas, because diseases tend to breed more readily when it's hot," he offered as an explanation, punctuating the sentence by tossing back a few of the chocolate candies.

Dean was eyeing the candy dish with interest, but made no move to take any chocolate for himself. "Why didn't you share that tidbit while we were looking for him?" He asked, more curious than aggressive, although a glance at John revealed that the Winchester patriarch's brewing aggression was more than enough for the room.

Gabriel shrugged. "It's not the dead of winter, so that wasn't going to narrow the field much." He glanced at Dean speculatively, then hurled a green M&M at the hunter without warning.

Instincts reacting before Dean really registered the flying candy, his hand snapped out to catch the projectile chocolate. He eyed it for a moment, then shrugged and ate it, nodding his head in a brief show of gratitude towards Gabriel.

"Your agility is impressive," Castiel noted, his expression earnest.

Dean flushed without really knowing why, rubbing at the back of his neck a little awkwardly. "Thanks, Cas."

"You shouldn't just eat anything he snaps up," John growled, but he seemed resigned to lose the argument before it even started. "Look, we've been cooped up in this room for most of the day. Why aren't we already at the hospital?"

"Because going into a hospital for the express purpose of cutting off someone's finger at two o'clock in the afternoon is a good way to get caught and interned in the psych ward," Sam explained, his tone wry. Glancing at Bobby, he asked, "What did you find out?"

Giving John an exasperated look, Bobby dropped himself into the chair across from Sam and started giving his report. "Nobody in or out, but that doesn't apply to wings, obviously." He inclined his head towards the angels. "No deaths have been attributed to the dysentery yet, but it's been a near thing a few times. Sounds like it started on the fifth floor and spread, so that's where I'd guess our horseman is."

"Okay," Sam absorbed that, nodding to himself. "I'm not sure we all need to go in for this. Bobby, I think you and Dad should be back up. If all six of us go in together, there's a bigger chance of running into interference from hospital staff and Pestilence somehow figuring out we're there."

"Like hell," John countered immediately. "I'm not sitting this mission out, Sam."

Taking a deep breath, Sam turned to face his father before responding. "What happens if Pestilence takes all four of us out? What if he has a way we don't know about to fight back against angels? There's too much we don't know to risk all going in together. It's better to have back up if necessary."

"I agree with Sam," Bobby said loudly, before John could speak again. "It's the smart thing to do. The two of you boys are a far better hunting pair, so it makes sense for you to go in first. If something happens, one of the angels can get us to help."

It had been awhile since Sam had felt truly in sync with his brother, and a glance at Dean told him that the older Winchester was thinking the same thing. Maybe this was a chance to get back in the groove, so to speak. Bobby's faith in their partnership was empowering, and Sam felt more confident than he had earlier. Taking out War had been an entirely different animal, so Sam was a little apprehensive about dealing with Pestilence.

"I don't like you two going in alone," John muttered. "We don't know what Pestilence is going to throw at you, and even Mr. High-And-Mighty over here isn't one hundred percent positive he can keep you protected." The fierce protective instinct evidenced by his tone was more obvious now, and Sam relaxed a little, recognizing the concern for what it was.

"No offense, Dad, but you're kind of proving my point," he said, trying to keep his tone neutral and non-confrontational. "If something unexpected happens and we're all up there already, then we're screwed. If just the two of us get taken out somehow, then we've still got you and Bobby able to come in and finish the job."

John grudgingly nodded, looking at Sam with something that was almost like pride. Sam had already looked away, so he didn't notice. John cleared his throat before speaking again. "I don't like you two going in without us, but you make a good point. Where do you want us to wait?"

"There's a garden thing on the side of the hospital," Bobby offered. "Lots of benches and stuff. We can hang out there. If all goes well, you all can just meet us there and we'll come back here together."

Gabriel shrugged. "Fine by me. I'm not worried. You Winchesters are scrappy." He grinned at the withering looks everyone gave him, though he spotted amusement in both of the younger Winchesters. He'd known he'd win them over eventually!

"In that case," Sam said, looking at his brother, "we need to finalize our game plan."

"Is 'fly in and cut his finger off' not enough of a plan for you?" Dean asked dryly, rolling his eyes.

"You should not have to worry about feeling ill," Castiel said, speaking to Sam, though he was mostly looking at Dean. "Gabriel has power far above my own, and I am confident that he, at least, will be able to protect you."

"You'll be plenty of help, Castiel," Gabriel said, his tone more formal than normal as he leveled his gaze on his brother. "I know this whole apocalypse thing has worn you out a little, not to mention our dickhead brothers, but you're not as far gone as you think."

The room was awkwardly quiet for a moment as the two angels looked at each other, communicating either through facial expressions or telepathy, no one was really sure which.

"Will Pestilence try and fight us off by himself though? Like physically?" Sam asked, after waiting what he hoped was an appropriate length of time for a break in the non-verbal conversation. "Or will he have guards?"

"Unlikely to the first, and maybe to the second, although I doubt it," Gabriel answered promptly, directing his full attention to Sam. "Pestilence is kind of a pushover, really, but he likes to think he's powerful because of the disease stuff. Once he realizes he can't make you guys vomit up your colons, he'll fold. He might have some demons with him, but I'd be surprised. It would draw more attention than he probably wants, and he's kind of a lone wolf."

Sam genuinely considered explaining to Gabriel that one couldn't actually vomit up their colon for almost a full thirty seconds before he caught sight of the grin the archangel was sending him. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he refocused on the matter at hand. "All right, that's good. Dean, come look at the map with me. It'll be easier to avoid nurses and staff if we know what the layout is like." When Dean immediately moved to his side, intent on the information Sam had in front of him, a sense of rightness and relief flooded Sam. Maybe, he mused, this was somehow because of John. Maybe having their father back was going to push the two brothers back into sync with each other. 

* * *

 

The lights in the hospital were dimmed, but not off, and it gave the clinical environment a particularly spooky vibe.

"We're on the right floor," Gabriel announced softly, his voice grim. "I can feel him."

Sam looked startled. "Like, sense his presence?" He asked, matching Gabriel's low volume.

Gabriel winced. "I can feel his influence. It's what he's using on the patients. It's ignoring you, probably because you're adults and he doesn't know you're you yet. It feels like bathing in oil." He shuddered, a disturbed look on his face. "I understand War, Famine, even Death just fine. The last one's the only one I'd recommend spending any time with, but even still." He huffed, clearly trying to compose himself. "Pestilence I hate."

"You and me both," Dean muttered, glaring at nothing as he took in the rooms full of sick kids. He couldn't see them because of the curtains covering glass doors and windows, but he knew they were there.

"Does this oily sensation give you any idea what room he's in?" Sam asked, a little hesitant. Gabriel's reaction to and description of Pestilence's presence was the type of thing Sam had always imagined a real angel would say when confronted with evil. He'd never had a chance to experience that before, given that all the angels he'd met seemed to think he was the evil in the room. With a glance towards Castiel, Sam amended the thought. Not  _all_. Not anymore, anyway.

Gabriel didn't reply verbally, but instead leveled a dark glare at an open hallway across from where they'd landed upon arrival.

With no visible hospital personnel to interfere, Sam and Dean moved forward in unison, keeping their footsteps light and glancing around to ensure no one would catch them by surprise. Gabriel drew even with Sam, looking just as vigilante as the brothers, while Castiel brought up the rear, his typically somber expression somehow seeming more dire in the circumstances, not to mention the lighting.

Dean held up his hand, bringing the procession to a halt in the middle of the hallway. They all saw the shadow before they heard the footsteps. Someone was coming down the hallway that intersected the hallways they were in. Dean and Sam instantly began to search for somewhere to duck out of the way, but Gabriel shook his head once and waved a lazy hand in their direction.

A woman in scrubs walked into the hallway intersection, glanced directly at them, and kept walking without missing a beat.

"What the hell?" Dean whispered, bewildered.

Sam looked immediately to Gabriel. "Did you just make us invisible?" He asked, incredulous.

Gabriel shrugged. "Very briefly. It's impractical to keep up long term, but it was easier than trying to hide from one nurse. C'mon, we're nearly there." He moved forward, not waiting for Dean to resume lead of their group. The older Winchester looked very briefly irritated before apparently deciding not to make an issue out of it.

When they got close enough, Gabriel didn't need to tell them they were near Pestilence. They could all feel it. Castiel began to grimace at the beginning of the next hallway they turned down, while Gabriel's expression grew steadily more revolted. Sam and Dean felt okay until just a few doors away, when their stomachs began rolling to an unfortunate rhythm. 

"Which room?" Dean whispered, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that they were right on top of their quarry. He'd never felt so unsettled in his life, and he could only imagine what the full force of Pestilence's presence was really like.

Gabriel's face was stern and more fiercely judgmental than the brothers had ever seen. "There," he replied, pointing forcefully at a door labeled "Pediatric Mental Health."

Sam went pale, but he didn't speak, only tightened his grip on the knife he'd slid out of it's sheath. Dean had Ruby's knife, which was their primary plan, so Sam's weapon was more of a back up. The rage at knowing that vulnerable children, even more so then some of the ones physically dying elsewhere in the hospital, were at risk from Pestilence's very presence filled Sam with a rage he hadn't experienced since before releasing Lucifer. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly and then reopening them, determined and in control. He caught Gabriel watching him with a calculating glance, but the archangel merely gave him a nod of approval before gesturing them forwards.

"Let's do this," Dean stated, his tone firm and allowing for no argument.

As one, Sam and Dean threw back the doors into the mental health wing, knives at the ready. Their angels were behind them, an additional measure of defense to ensure the Winchesters could accomplish their mission. They found themselves in waiting area, where an older looking man was looking in an uncovered window to watch a teenager writhe in pain in a hospital bed. He turned, his expression clinically curious, to examine the hunters.

"You must be the Winchesters," he said, looking amused. "I've been waiting for you."


	11. Chapter 11

There was nothing shocking about the idea that Pestilence had guessed they might come for him, and neither Winchester let the announcement throw them. Instead, they both focused on their anger at seeing Pestilence's appreciation for the pain the teenager in the room behind him was going through.

Dean started forward, and paused briefly when Pestilence held up a single finger, a patronizing smile on his face.

"You wouldn't want to spoil the fun now, would you Dean?" He tsked gently, wagging the finger. His brow furrowed when Dean continued forward, undaunted, and he stood forcefully, an expectant look on his face. When he abruptly found himself pinned to the wall with Dean's arm against his throat, the expression turned to bewildered panic. "How?" He demanded. "You shouldn't even be standing!"

"Well," Dean drawled, smirking at the pinned horseman, "seeing as how I'm so darn likable, I've got myself some friends. You, being a torturing psychopath, wouldn't understand."

Pestilence's eyes darted towards the angels with understanding, then back to Dean, his lips twitching into a smile, despite the position he found himself in. "I wouldn't say I'm incapable of making friends, he countered mildly."

Gabriel spotted the demons first, relaxing when he realized there were only two. "Cas?" He asked, glancing at his younger brother expectantly. Sam stood halfway in between Gabriel and Dean, and looked poised to head for the demons himself until the archangel called on Castiel to take care of it.

Castiel's angel blade was already in hand, and he charged the newcomers, taking one demon down before it had time to attack, and engaging immediately in hand to hand combat with the other. Castiel was by far the superior soldier, which allowed Gabriel to relax and return his focus to protecting Sam and Dean from Pestilence's influence. The oily feeling was ten times worse in his actual presence, but Gabriel wasn't going to let his influence get anywhere near the hunters he was protecting.

Pestilence no longer looked even remotely confident, and was now struggling against Dean. Not having any great physical strength of his own, the horseman was easily kept in place by Dean, who reached down with his free hand to snatch Pestilence's hand and pin it to the window, the ring suddenly in plain view.

"You can't!" Pestilence insisted, his eyes darting wildly. "You'll never be able to stop all of my plans, even if you take me out of the picture!" He flinched as a scream from behind them indicated that Castiel had dispatched the second demon.

"Dean, hold him still," Gabriel instructed, coming closer. "Be ready with that knife."

Sam watched, fascinated, as Gabriel stepped close to the horseman and hunter, his expression intent. He pressed two fingers to either temple of the horseman's head, causing Pestilence to cry out in a sound that was some warped form of pain. Gabriel stepped back a moment later, looking satisfied. "We don't need anything from him, Dean. Go for it."

In one swift motion, Pestilence's finger was on the floor. Sam snatched it before anything could happen, and removed the ring, grimacing at the gore resulting from Dean's action with the knife.

Pestilence snarled at them, seeming desperate for a threat, but ultimately vanished without a final word.

"I didn't realize you could read the minds of horsemen," Sam said, raising an eyebrow at Gabriel with a question.

Gabriel nodded, snapping his fingers to remove the flood and finger, leaving Sam with a clean ring and a clean conscious regarding the state of the hospital. "Archangel, kiddo. I outrank all of them except for Death. He likes me though, so it's all good." He didn't seem to find this a strange thing to claim, and pivoted to snap his fingers at the bodies of the demons, removing them as well. "There, clean as we found it. Cleaner, actually. Pestilence's taint is completely gone. Everyone in the hospital won't have any lasting ailments. Not from Pestilence, anyway. Whatever they already had will remain." He looked troubled by that, but the concern was gone as soon as it had come. Glancing at the brothers he asked, "Ready to leave?"

"What did you get from him?" Dean demanded, following up what Sam had intended to ask in the first place.

Gabriel's brow furrowed. "Nothing good, but it'll be easier to discuss it all together. Let's go reassure Papa Bear One and Two that you crazy kids are in once piece."

Neither Winchester could argue before they found themselves in the hospital garden, John and Bobby jumping to their feet. "How'd it go?" they demanded in virtual harmony.

Sam answered for them. "Really well, all things considered. It would have been a lot worse if we didn't have Gabriel." He shot the archangel a grateful look.

"Our job's not done yet, folks," Gabriel reminded them. Snapping his fingers, he transported them all back to the motel without warning, jumping onto one of the beds and sighing loudly. "So, you want the good news or the bad news?"

"Bad news," Dean said immediately, arms crossed and prepared to hear the worst. He was too caught up in what Gabriel had to tell them to even complain about the surprise transport. Not that it mattered, since John was doing it for him under his breath.

"The bad news," Gabriel stated, "is that Pestilence's master plan was to infect everyone with the Croatoan virus. Through systematic outbreaks of Swine Flu and the subsequent vaccine, specifically."

Sam blanched. "The good news?" he asked hopefully.

Gabriel grinned, alleviating some of the tension in the room. "None of the vaccine has shipped. It isn't even ready yet. In fact, I can get in and get rid of all traces of Croatoan. I can even get rid of Pestilence's demons, so no one interferes. If we'd gone after him in a few weeks instead of today, we would have been racing against a clock to prevent a widespread outbreak. The Swine Flu will take care of itself now that Pestilence isn't egging it on."

Everyone relaxed and began to fall into various chairs around the room, Dean onto the other bed, Sam and Bobby into the chairs by the desk, and John into the armchair in the corner.

"Thanks, Gabe," Dean said abruptly, surprising everyone. He turned to the archangel, who was raising an eyebrow at him. "For protecting us from Pestilence's influence," Dean clarified. "We sure as hell could have used that when we went up against Famine."

Sam averted his eyes, not wanting to be reminded of that particular challenge. They may have acquired Famine's ring, not that they'd known at the time that they'd need it, but he and Dean had both come away from that encounter worse for wear, only to be shot shortly after by Walt and Roy. Even Castiel had been hurt in that debacle. It definitely would have been nice to have Gabriel's involvement then. 

"Well, Dad hadn't seen fit to kick my ass into gear yet, but I'm sorry I missed that party." Gabriel shrugged, although something in his eyes suggested he understood the weight of that particular encounter on all of them.

"What now?" John asked, after a lull in the conversation. He looked expectantly between the others in the room. "Three out of four, right? What happens next?"

"What happens next is that you all go back to South Dakota and chill out for a few days," Gabriel informed him, his tone allowing for no argument. "Take a family vacation, if you know how that works. I'll deal with the leftover Pestilence problem, then I'll go find Death. Like I said, he likes me. If all goes well, you won't ever even have to go near him."

Both Dean and Sam made faces indicating that they weren't entirely adverse to the unique experience of meeting the literal person of Death, but neither argued with the thinly veiled order in Gabriel's instructions.

"You want us to take a vacation," John stated, his tone flat. "During the apocalypse."

Gabriel grinned. "Consider it a personal challenge, Papa Winchester. After all, I don't think you can do it." With another snap, the three Winchesters, Bobby, and Castiel found themselves back in Bobby's house, equipment in hand and no archangel in sight.

"I hate that he does that," John growled, spinning in place to verify that the archangel was indeed gone.

"Flying is more expedient than any other means of travel," Castiel reminded him, moving a little closer to Dean, leaving Sam by Bobby as John paced into the living room.

Sam eyed his father's aggravated body language and sighed. Gabriel's heart may have been in the right place, but if they weren't careful, the archangel might return to find they'd torn each other to shreds. Glancing at the protective stance Castiel held over Dean, which the hunter seemed completely oblivious to, Sam amended the concern in his head. Dean would survive, since there was no way his angel would let him be torn to shreds. In spite of himself, Sam had to smile at the two of them. For as much as Dean had seemed like he might give up since the ordeal with Famine and the subsequent trip to Heaven, it was good to know that there was someone other than Sam, Bobby, or even John who would refuse to let Dean give up on anything. Sparing a thought for the absent archangel, Sam allowed himself to hope, just for a second, that maybe Gabriel was willing to be like that for Sam.

* * *

 

Fixing everything Pestilence had set up at Lucifer's behest was childishly easy. Then again, Gabriel was an archangel. A few demons attempted to bargain, but Gabriel had no intentions of letting them tattle to their master, so he didn't allow any of them to survive. Cleaning Croatoan out of the vaccines was again an easy task, but Gabriel left the vaccines themselves intact. It wouldn't do for people to be unable to protect themselves from Swine Flu, even if the outbreak wouldn't continue. Humans liked to feel protected and safe, and Gabriel didn't really feel inclined to remove the option for them.

With his basic errand completed - and it amused Gabriel to think of the reactions of his new friends if they knew he considered it basic - Gabriel turned his attention to the task of finding Death. Death was a funny creature. One of habit and unpredictability, which made him above all the most unique being Gabriel had the pleasure of being acquainted with. Their acquaintance was very brief though, and only because Death had chosen to allow Gabriel to meet him. It was when Gabriel was quite young, but he'd respected Death more than any other being, at least apart from his Father.

While Death had certain habits, odd for such an unpredictable being, Gabriel wasn't certain what the best way to track him down was. He eliminated the idea of summoning immediately. Death  _hated_ being summoned, and Gabriel was not going to start out on such a bad foot with a being he hadn't seen in longer than the Winchesters would be able to even imagine. He couldn't bind Death, since Lucifer had already done that. That was another surefire way to piss off the horseman.

Instead, Gabriel went looking for a Reaper. It didn't take long, although convincing the first Reaper he found to actually carry a message to Death was harder than he'd anticipated.

"Death is not yours to beseech," the Reaper told him imperiously, his nose upturned at the very thought.

Doing his best to maintain some semblance of a respectful demeanor, Gabriel gritted his teeth and said, "This is important, and has to do with his freedom. Can you please just ask if he'll meet me? He can pick the place."

That statement was the exact reason Gabriel found himself in a What-a-Burger in South Texas at ten in the evening, across from Death himself.

"That looks..." Gabriel trailed off, trying to decide an appropriate adjective for the burger. It was large, covered in cheese, and served on Texas toast instead of a bun. Gabriel was a hedonist, sure, but even he thought the burger looked positively heart attack inducing. Although, given that neither being in the restaurant was technically mortal, it was a moot point.

Death looked at Gabriel curiously, patting his mouth delicately with a napkin and lowering the burger. "You wanted to speak about my ring," he stated, not bothering to turn it into a question.

Gabriel had learned almost immediately that you couldn't lie to Death. He knew just as much as God did, possibly more. Gabriel was never quite sure on that front, and his Father had never clarified. "Yes," he replied, although a reply hadn't really been requested of him. "Yours is the only ring we don't have, and we need it if we want to send Lucifer back."

Chewing and swallowing another bite of the burger, Death studied Gabriel for a moment. "Why have you involved yourself, Gabriel? You were attempting to avoid this conflict entirely."

Gabriel let the question dangle for a moment, not entirely sure how to articulate an answer anyway. "My Father," he finally said, leaving it at that.

Thankfully, Death didn't seem to need further clarification. "Very well. He always did have unique ways of teaching valuable truths." After chewing and swallowing another bite of burger, Death nodded slowly at Gabriel. "I will give you my ring, but I will not give it to you."

Sitting patiently for a minute, waiting for clarification, Gabriel slowly realized that Death wasn't planning to explain himself. "Which means...?" He prompted, wincing at his own tone. Talking with Death was like speaking with no one else, and Gabriel felt uncomfortably young and irreverent.

"You," Death stated, setting the burger down again, "will bring to me someone you believe I will find worthy to take my ring. Someone who will interest me. You, Gabriel, I already understand, but I do not wish for you to have my ring. I do wish for you to be able to use it against your brother, so I am giving you the benefit of the doubt."

It took Gabriel a moment to wrap his head around the idea, and then he was nodding, already knowing exactly what he was going to do. "I know exactly the man for the job," Gabriel assured the horseman. "He'll fascinate and impress you, and trust me, he's beyond worthy of something like your ring."

Death's eyes twinkled just slightly at the description, but it could have been a trick of the light. "I look forward to meeting him. Tomorrow evening."


	12. Chapter 12

Sam wasn't hiding from his father. Not technically at least. Dean and Castiel had vanished into the garage for unknown reasons as soon as Gabriel dropped them off, and Bobby had meandered back to his books with a few choice comments about how he still had a job to do. Sam had felt a little chagrined about dragging Bobby away from his unofficial job of being the human library for hunters, but he knew that Bobby would not have come with them if he hadn't wanted to. In any case, that still left Sam and John to their own devices. Sam had made an excuse about needing to take a shower after the whole Pestilence adventure, and by the time he'd come downstairs, John was busy helping Bobby with something. That gave Sam just enough time to snag a water bottle and a protein bar before making his way outside to wander around for a little while.

He didn't get far before he heard footsteps approaching from behind. He turned, somehow not surprised to see his father. "Hey, Dad," he greeted the Winchester patriarch, inclining the half-eaten protein bar in his direction like one might a beer bottle. He took another bite, chewing carefully before swallowing. It was actually the only thing he'd had to eat all day, but he'd been too apprehensive to eat in the morning.

John looked at the protein bar for a moment, seeming to consider commenting before he redirected his attention to Sam's face. "You're pretty light on your feet," he said by way of reply. "I almost didn't hear you sneak out of the house."

Sam made a face. "I was not sneaking out," He corrected, rolling his eyes. Whether or not he was avoiding his father was not a conversation he actually wanted to have with the man. "I just needed some air. Who knows how long Gabe's going to be."

"So, you weren't avoiding me?" John asked, raising an eyebrow. It was a facial motion that brought back a wave of childhood memories in an instant, and Sam couldn't help a slight twitch of his lips at the sight. That in and of itself was amusing, since as a kid that eyebrow had brought about intimidation more often than amusement.

"It's been a little tense, that's all," Sam replied, his tone a little wry. "Not surprising, of course, but still, not ideal."

John gave a little half shrug, not disagreeing with his son's assessment. "I know I'm a big part of that tension," he admitted. "I'm trying to back off a little. Dean said that you all didn't have an opening for a commanding officer anymore, but you did have room for new teammates. I'm trying to take that to heart, but it's hard."

"That's..." Sam thought about it, and made a thoughtful noise under his breath. "That's actually pretty insightful on his part. That didn't insult you?"

John huffed a laugh. "I'm a lot of things, Sam, but I'm not stupid. I know you boys didn't need General Dad to arise from the grave to lead your lives for you."

Sam laughed properly, relaxing a little bit. "There was a time you would have bit our heads off for daring to suggest you weren't the infallible leader," he pointed out.

John rolled his eyes. "Why do you think having a bull-headed kid like you was such a challenge for me?" The soft smile on his face took most of the bite out of the words.

Declining to argue the assessment given that it was true, Sam watched his father for a moment before blurting, "I missed you."

Stopping dead in his tracks, John looked up in surprise, not having expected anything quite so honest from his youngest. "I'm sorry I left you boys the way I did," John replied, his tone genuine.

Sam shook his head. "That's not what I meant. I mean, yeah, I missed you when you were dead, like you wouldn't believe, but I missed you when I was eighteen. And nineteen. And twenty. And twenty-one. And twenty-two. I missed you when I got a 4.0 my first semester. I missed you when I met the girl of my dreams. I missed you when I got my first apartment. I missed you when I went ring shopping. Then, when Dean showed up saying you were gone, all I could think about was the fact that our last conversation was an argument, and you didn't know anything about me anymore. Dean called me while I was gone. Not a lot, but just enough so I'd know he was alive and well. Or alive and stupid, depending on the day." Sam huffed a laugh and rubbed at his tired eyes, which were mercifully free of moisture. "When you died in the hospital, right after I'd just been yelling at you, it brought all of that back in a flash. I was petrified that you'd died thinking I hated you." Sam stopped and took a deep breath, feeling lighter now that the words were out, and increasingly apprehensive at the same time. He wasn't sure he'd ever been quite that honest with his father before. Not about something like this.

John was staring at his son the whole time he was speaking, his jaw dropping just slightly at the onslaught his son had clearly been holding onto since the fateful night Sam had left for California. "I drove by," he said quietly, once Sam had stopped speaking. "Roughly once every few months. I'd get Dean preoccupied with something so I didn't have to admit what I was doing, then I'd go find you. Sometimes you were in class, sometimes you were working, and once I even saw you with that girl. Her name was Jess, right?"

Sam's eyes pricked with tears for the first time, and he took a deep breath to hold back the onslaught of emotion that was threatening. "Yeah. Jessica Moore. We met freshman year, started dating the beginning of sophomore year, and moved in together the beginning of junior year."

The two men had stopped, standing in the middle of Bobby's yard without anything but junked cars around. John hesitated before asking, "Tell me about her?"

Sam cleared his throat a few times, realizing that it had been years since he'd spoken about Jessica. He grinned broadly as he spoke, the memories flooding back like he'd been with her last week, rather than over five years before. "She was amazing, Dad. Not just because I loved her and she hung the freaking moon, either. She had this biting wit, and at least half of my initial infatuation with her was because she would come up with the best insults about me. She was never mean though, or cruel, or anything even remotely nasty. She was just so sarcastic, and it was wonderful. She was smart too. She had that kind of brain that didn't really need to study to do well, but she did anyway, because she knew she could help her friends out. She figured out that I did better in classes when I memorized the material, so she'd quiz me on law materials at random times, just to make sure I was really learning the material."

John was smiling now too, broad and sad, as the entire conversation carried the undercurrent of the fact that John could never meet Jessica Moore. "Your mom was smart like that," he reminisced. "I thought she was too good for me, and so did her parents. She would just roll her eyes and grab my arm, dragging me along while declaring that I was taking her on a date. Half the time she seemed to initiate our dates. I was just along for the ride."

Sam cracked a grin at that, thinking of the willpower of John Winchester being overshadowed by anybody. "I wish you could have met her," he said softly. "Dean only met her for one conversation, and I wish they could have been friends sometimes. They would have been so obnoxious together in the best way, and he has no idea what that could have been like. All he knows is who she was to me, but in my head, she wasn't just my girlfriend. I had a whole dream of the family, the job, the life, and it all in the most ideal way possible included my father and my brother." Sam trailed off, scratching at the back of his neck and sighing heavily.

Leveling his gaze at Sam, John said slowly, "I'm sorry I kicked you out. You know, probably better than anybody, how I can act when I'm angry. I should have called you, and I should have taken it back, but I was too stubborn to do anything other than keep an eye on you when I knew you weren't looking."

"Stubborn ass," Sam replied, his lips twitching into a smile when John leveled a half-hearted glare at him. "Thanks, Dad. I forgave you for that I really long time ago. Before you died, actually. It's just, I never got to say any of that. I never got to tell you what you missed, or what I wish you'd been there for. Although, God knows I haven't ever had that conversation with Dean, and he's already been dead and back a couple times too." Sam rubbed at his forehead and scowled at the ground, given that he didn't have anything corporeal to direct that particular anger towards.

"Then I'm glad I'm back," John decided. "Even if it's just to fix things I broke last time around." 

Sam shrugged. "I'm pretty sure that's exactly what second lives are for. Although I did a pretty piss-poor job with mine."

John's eyes narrowed. "About that." He paused, unsure exactly how to tackle the whole, 'my son started the apocalypse' problem.

Sam rolled his eyes and spread his arms. "It's only fair, Dad. I got to unload on you, so now it's your turn. Hit me with it."

Looking at his son's face, John saw all of the hallmarks of a man who knew exactly what he'd done wrong, not only because he was smart enough to figure it out for himself, but because everyone else had made sure to point out every little facet of his mistakes. John knew what a beaten down soldier looked like, and he'd never been so regretful of the life into which he'd raised his children. They both looked like that, just to different degrees and for different reasons. Sam though, Sam was only staying above water due to a small desire to keep from sinking. The rocks that kept being tied to his ankles by himself and those around him were no match for his will to keep going, because that will was not particularly hearty.

"You're a lot stronger than I ever gave you credit for, Sam," John told his song seriously, his expression stern and honest.

Sam's eyebrows flew up in surprise. "Um, thanks? How do you figure?"

John snorted. "Sam, how many of Azazel's children gave into the darkness their powers offered and went power-mad?"

Sam's expression darkened. "All of them."

"No," John corrected, " _most_ of them. You never did anything out of a desire for evil."

"The road to Hell is paved with good intentions," Sam shot back, his brow furrowed. "In my case, that was as literal as it gets."

John threw up his hands. "From everything I've been told, Sam, you made several bad decisions. Things that I would have been horrified by if I'd been here while they were happening. You know what else I know? I know that you drank the demon blood so you could save people. Stupid choice, pure motivation. You killed Lilith so you could save people. Stupid choice, pure motivation. Are you seeing a pattern here? Because I am, and it's led me to the conclusion that my genius of a kid made some decisions he regrets more than anything, but he never stopped being a pure-hearted person who wants to protect others."

Sam took a deep breath, let it out, then sucked in another breath, blinking rapidly as he stared at his father. "I always thought you'd be upset that Dean hadn't taken me out sooner," he admitted, a little hesitantly.

John kicked at the ground and cursed under his breath. "I shouldn't have said a damn thing to him. I just wanted to warn you two, but there wasn't time. The whole thing with Azazel was focused on you, and that's why I told Dean what I did. I knew he was never going to let anything happen to you, and that's all I wanted. I never intended for you to believe there was any chance you weren't going to defeat Azazel, and I sure as hell never intended for you to believe that I in any way wanted your brother to kill you."

"Then you suck at deathbed goodbyes," Sam muttered, letting a breath out and huffing a laugh to himself again, rubbing at his face and standing straight.

"Yeah, well, hopefully the next one will take long enough that I can give it some thought," John snarked, rolling his eyes and stepping forward. "Come here, Sam."

Sam's eyes widened just briefly before he moved forward and accepted the hug, wrapping his arms around his father and gripping him tightly.

The two men stood in silence for a moment, then slowly broke apart. John glanced up at his son and gave a mock scowl. "When'd you get so damn tall, anyway?"


	13. Chapter 13

Gabriel made it back to Bobby's house in time for dinner that evening, announcing that the vaccine danger was averted, but not going into detail about anything else. "It's a big deal," he dismissed when asked about the last horseman. "I've got it handled." He maintained that attitude throughout dinner and the remainder of the evening, which saw everybody retreating to their various default activities once more. Before Sam could get wrapped up in anything though, Gabriel reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him back and earning a surprised look from the tallest Winchester.

"What's up, Gabe?" Sam asked, a little puzzled. Gabriel hadn't been particularly outrageous during dinner, and was keeping his cards close to his chest. It wasn't like it was unusual for the archangel to have secrets, but Sam had expected to hear a mission update or something as soon as Gabriel returned, and so far he hadn't revealed anything.

Gabriel inclined his head towards the door. "Let's take a walk. I need you for something."

Sam raised an eyebrow, but followed the smaller man without argument. Gabriel wandered out into the maze of cars, pausing to hop up on the hood of an old Mustang Bobby'd had in the yard for years. It was utterly destroyed and would never run again, but it had been an organ donor for another Mustang or two in its day, so Bobby kept it around. Plus, in spite of how beat up it was, it was still a pretty car. When it wasn't covered in dirt it was the type of bright blue that one usually associated with the ocean around Hawaii. It was just the sort of outlandish car that Gabriel would be drawn to, never mind that it didn't actually run.

Smiling to himself as he observed Gabriel's chosen perch, Sam leaned up against the stack of crushed beaters across from the Mustang and nodded at the archangel. "All right, what's up?"

"Death wants to meet you," Gabriel announced, looking pleased with himself.

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "I'm sorry, what? Why?" The concept of someone like Death wanting to meet him seemed like it should be terrifying. Sam was a lot of things, but easily frightened wasn't one of them. Death wanting to meet him though? That was enough to make him more than a little wary.

Gabriel lounged back on the hood of the Mustang, shrugging a little. "Okay, so he didn't say he wanted to meet you specifically, but I'm pretty sure he knows I'm bringing you. He basically told me that as much as he wants us to win this, he doesn't actually trust me enough to let me have his ring. Which, fine, that's probably fair. So, he told me to bring him someone he'd like, someone who's worthy, and so obviously I decided to bring you."

Sam stared at the archangel, aware that his mouth was actually hanging open a little. "You think Death would like me," he stated, the concept so bizarre he didn't feel like he could actually react to it.

"That's probably not entirely true," Gabriel allowed. "He's not crazy about people who come back from the dead, for obvious reasons, so he might not like you per se, but he'd definitely respect you, which means he'll give you the ring."

"Why the hell would he respect me?" Sam asked, baffled. "The only reason Lucifer was around to bind him and start this whole mess was because of me. Shouldn't he be all interested in respecting the Righteous Man?" Sam hooked his thumb in the general direction of the garage, where he knew Dean and Castiel were right now. "I'm not trying to be self-deprecating here, but I don't understand what makes you think I'm a better choice for this than Dean."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Well, first off, Death left it up to me to make the choice, and I like you better. I trust my own judgement, so there." He stuck out his tongue at the hunter, mentally patting himself on the back when he actually made Sam smile a little. "Secondly, he'll respect you for how you've died and why."

Sam's brow furrowed, skepticism obvious on his face. "Stabbed in the back because I was too noble and shot in the chest because I doomed the world?" He asked wryly, folding his arms across his chest. Talking about his own deaths made him uncomfortable, especially since even those closest to him didn't really know the half of it.

Something in Gabriel's face suggested that he knew there was more to Sam's death experiences than that, but he kept any thoughts he had to himself, for once. "Stabbed in the back while remaining the only one of Azazel's children to not go dark side," the archangel corrected, "and shot in the chest as an act of revenge for something you didn't do."

A scowl emerged on Sam's face, making it clear he didn't agree. "Roy and Walt shot us because I set Lucifer free," he argued. "I'm pretty damn sure that's a thing I did."

Gabriel gave Sam a look that clearly said how dense he thought the hunter was being. "I was under the impression those sorry excuses for hunters thought you'd maliciously set the world on fire for personal gain and a love of chaos."

This time it was Sam's turn to roll his eyes, but he allowed Gabriel the point. "All right, so I didn't mean to set Lucifer free. I still did it, and Death is bound to him because of me. You really think he's going to let that slide?"

Gabriel gave Sam an appraising look. "I think you're going to be surprised just how interesting he finds you, Samsquatch. Now, are you going to keep arguing with me, or are you going to meet Death for a date?"

Sam's face twisted up in confusion. "A date?" he asked, bewildered.

Gabriel shrugged. "He likes fast food. He'll probably take you to Taco Bell or something."

Sam opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, then closed it again. Why the hell shouldn't Death like fast food? What did Sam know about it? "Sure, why not," he murmured, rubbing at his forehead and sighing heavily. "When is this meeting happening?"

"Tomorrow, for dinner," Gabriel said, grinning in that cheeky way that made it obvious he knew he'd won. "He'll let me know where to bring you, and we'll be off."

"Okay," Sam said, more to himself than to Gabriel. "Date with Death. Awesome. This is in no way an actual date, right?" Sam wasn't sure what possessed him to even ask, but then again, this was Gabriel. Who the hell knew if he actually meant date when he said date? The last thing Sam needed was for his love life to become more problematic.

Gabriel snorted loudly. "Fine, appointment with Death. Does that sound better? If you really want to go on a date, I'll take you to Bruge when all this is over."

Sam tripped right over the absurdity of having an appointment with Death and fell headlong into the proposition from an archangel. "Why Belgium?" he asked, too surprised to ask any of his other questions. 

Falling back with his arms splayed against the hood of the Mustang, Gabriel gave a moan that was undeniably sexual and murmured, "Chocolate. Wonderful, wonderful chocolate." Sitting back up, he winked at the flustered hunter and added, "Perfect for a first date."

Sam stared at the archangel, unsure if he was kidding or not. "Assuming we make it through the apocalypse in one piece, I'm holding you to that," he decided, pulling himself together enough to give Gabriel a challenging look. He liked the archangel. A lot, actually. He was funny, a powerful asset in this crazy war they'd found themselves in, and he'd sacrificed his carefree life to bring them their father. Then there was the way he defended Sam, like he actually believed Sam was worth something. After spending the better part of two years being forceably reminded again and again that the angels found him both worthless and depraved, the fact that any angel was willing to be around him was a miracle. Castiel was one thing, but to have a literal archangel not only willing to be around him, but more than willing to defend him was something Sam could barely fathom. If Gabriel really cared about Sam the way he was implying he did, Sam was more than willing to spend time with him. Although, there was always the chance that dating an archangel was sacrilegious somehow. Then again, Sam acknowledged, eyeing Gabriel with a new confidence, Gabriel was already about as sacrilegious as he could get.

Gabriel grinned broadly, looking both surprised and pleased. "I'm going to rock your world," he promised. "You just have to rock Death's first."

"Oh, c'mon, dude, gross," Sam protested, screwing up his face in distaste.

"Sam!" Gabriel declared the name with an over-the-top gasp and a sigh like an old fashioned damsel. "Get your mind out of the gutter!" He grinned when Sam gave him a bewildered look, then abruptly they were both in hysterics.

Really, Sam had to admit that Gabriel joining their team was one of the best things that could have happened. They might actually win this thing.

* * *

 

"Why did I agree to this?" Sam hissed down and to his left, where Gabriel stood, completely unconcerned. They stood in front of a hole-in-the-wall Chinese place in what Sam thought might be New York City. Gabriel hadn't bothered to tell him, and Sam hadn't spent much time in New York, let alone in the middle of one of the most famous cities in America. It sort of looked like New York City, but if Sam was being honest with himself, he was only trying to figure it out so he didn't have to think about the Chinese restaurant in front of him.

"Don't be such a drama queen," Gabriel replied, not even looking up.

Sam rolled his eyes. "That means a lot, coming from you," he shot back.

"He's not going to kill you," Gabriel replied with a smirk. "He's just going to talk, okay? I'm going to wait right here, and we'll go back to the junkyard as soon as you're done. Relax."

"Scrapyard," Sam corrected automatically, but he had already started to fall into his hunter mindset. This was about fixing everything. They just needed Death's ring to be able to get rid of Lucifer. He reminded himself of those facts a few times, then started forward toward the restaurant.

"Go get 'em, Samsquatch!" Gabriel called helpfully from behind him.

Sam ignored the archangel, although the support was appreciated, whether or not he felt like admitting it. The door made a tinkling noise as he opened it, and he stepped into the small, dimly lit restaurant.

Death was already there.

Death, Sam decided, commanded an air of respect. He hadn't actually done anything yet, other than take a bite of what smelled like orange chicken, but waves of subtle power rolled off of him. He was older looking, in that sort of way that you expected to see leading a commune of religious zealots in the desert. Sam almost felt guilty for thinking it, but Death seemed unconcerned with Sam's observation of him.

"You aren't here because of my ring," Death announced, setting his fork down and looking up to meet Sam's eyes for the first time.

Sam wasn't sure how he was supposed to respond to that, but a quick flick of Death's eyes towards the chair across from him made it obvious the Horseman wanted him to sit down, so he did so. "I'm not?" He asked, once there was nothing he could do but meet the Horseman's eyes.

"No, you're not," Death agreed, although the assertion had been his own to begin with. His eyes roamed over Sam with a curious and almost respectful gaze. It reminded Sam of what Gabriel had said before, at Bobby's about how Death would respect him. He hadn't quite believed that it was true.

"If I'm not here for the ring," Sam prompted, "why did you ask Gabriel to bring me?"

"Well, I'm sure he told you I didn't ask for you specifically," Death said, his tone casual. "I could have, since it was you I wanted to meet, but I knew Gabriel would bring you."

"I'm sorry," Sam hedged, feeling stripped down in a way he was unused to. "I don't really understand."

"I'm being deliberately cryptic," Death admitted. "My apologies. You will leave here with my ring, you have my word."

"Okay, good," Sam replied slowly, watching the Horseman warily. "Why did you want to meet me?"

A small smile crossed Death's face. "I would have given the ring to you, or your brother, or your father, or your unrelated uncle. I only refused to give it to Gabriel because I found this to be a good opportunity to remind him that he is not, in fact, king."

"So any of us would do," Sam clarified, ignoring the twinge he felt at essentially being told he wasn't singled out in any way. He was far too old for "you're not special" to hurt anymore.

"I would give my ring to any of you," Death corrected, his eyes narrowing. "I want you to win your war, so of course I'll give you my ring. I knew, however, that Gabriel would bring you, and I wanted to meet you officially. We've skirted around each other, you and I, but never met face to face."

"You mean when I've died, at Cold Oak and in the motel," Sam murmured, the reminders of his deaths causing a shiver to run through him.

Death offered a small, sad smile. "Not just then, Sam Winchester. All seven times, you walked towards me, only to be snatched away."

Sam went white and shook his head. "Those don't count," he said quietly.

Death tsked his tongue. "Ah, Sam, but they do. You died each time, if only briefly. That first time, at Cold Oak, I wasn't really paying attention. I knew of you and your brother, of course, but I didn't watch Azazel's showdown. It was merely a speck on a far longer eternity. But then, just as you reached Heaven's gates and were escorted to your eternal rest, you were snatched back and forced to reinhabit your body once more."

"Dean," Sam said by way of explanation. He knew damn well they'd subverted the natural order, but it sure as hell hadn't been his idea.

"Dean," Death agreed. "I was irritated, but unfortunately, such things are not uncommon. Unusual, certainly, but your brother was not the first man to bring a loved one back to life with a demon deal." Death shook his head, seeming put upon. "The next five times, however, I was there for. A reaper felt the change in your mind and came to me, knowing I would be interested. I was, and I was there to great you, but Lucifer intercepted you before we could meet each time."

"I had to try," Sam said firmly. He pushed away the memories of waking up, time after time, only to see the ceiling of his motel room and realize that nothing had changed.

"I'm not condemning you, Sam," Death reassured him. "I understood then, and I understand now. Unfortunately, Lucifer's power far exceeds your own."

Sam offered a wry smile. "The fact that I'm still breathing is evidence enough of that, I think."

"Quite," Death agreed, looking amused. "In any case, this most recent time, you and your brother were snatched from me before I could even intervene, and sent straight on to Heaven. Zachariah's doing, I believe. He is rather odious, but it's not my business to deal with the affairs of angels."

"My altercations with Lucifer aside," Sam began, pushing past the uncomfortable knowledge that Death had had a front row seat to the failure of drugs, bullets, knives, rope, and water to end any chance Lucifer had of obtaining his true vessel, "why me and not Dean? Dean's died twice officially, and well over one hundred times if you're taking Gabriel into account." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the street, where he assumed the archangel was still waiting. He'd mostly forgiven Gabriel for Mystery Spot, but it didn't mean the memories didn't still hurt.

Death rolled his eyes. "Because Dean, while someone I'm sure I would enjoy as much as I can a human, does not have the same record of death with nobility that you do."

"What's the supposed to mean?" Sam demanded, feeling insulted on his brother's behalf without really knowing why.

"Dean died the first time as a direct result of his own weakness and selfishness," Death said bluntly. "I can honor the desire to sacrifice oneself for the love of another, but it was still a selfish death. The second time, he died pointlessly. He died because had he not been killed, he would have become a killer out of revenge. Again, a lack of nobility from which you do not suffer. As far as your archangel friend's involvement, he never actually killed your brother. The entire thing was a fiction he created for your benefit. He did not actually kill Dean."

"Oh." Sam had to chew on that for a moment. He was relieved to discover that none of Dean's Mystery Spot deaths were real, or at least, not real to Death. He had trouble thinking of Dean's other deaths the same was Death did, but he was forced to admit he didn't actually disagree. He had definitely felt similar, at least towards Dean's first death, when faced with it at the time. He knew Dean didn't see it that way, but they were unlikely to ever agree on that score.

Death removed his ring and held it up. "Sam, I wanted to meet you because I believe you are the most capable of ending this war. Are you prepared to do what it takes?"

Sam looked at the ring, trying to decide if he actually had an answer to that. What was it going to take? He thought he understood what Death meant though. Was he prepared to sacrifice for the sake of the world? "Yes."

Death dropped the ring into Sam's palm. "Good luck, Sam Winchester."


	14. Chapter 14

Bobby, John, Sam, Dean, Gabriel, and Castiel stood around the kitchen table, staring down at the Horsemen's rings. They each bore a different expression. Castiel was curious about the rings. Gabriel was smugly satisfied that they'd retrieved them all, especially since half of the accomplishment had included his direct involvement. Bobby looked fascinated, as if he was seconds away from running off with the rings to go study them. Dean had some combination of pride and trepidation battling across his face. Sam looked calculating, a plan clearly forming as he surveyed the rings. It was John, however, who broke the silence, his gruff tone matching the wary expression on his face.

"We've got the damn things," he pointed out, gesturing towards the table, "so what are we supposed to do with them?" It was a good question, and none of them wanted to admit that there wasn't quite an actual plan yet.

"This is the key to the cage," Castiel reiterated. "We just need to find a way to ensure Lucifer goes back into the cage."

"Which is not going to be easy," Gabriel warned. "You can't just shove him in. He's an archangel, and even if he is in the wrong vessel, he's capable of keeping himself from being flung into a gaping hole in the ground. By us, anyway. If our Father got involved again, that would be different."

Something about John's expression gave Sam enough warning to jump into the conversation before the Winchester patriarch could start a theological argument. "If we can't bodily throw him in, then we'll have to drag him in," the youngest Winchester said firmly. He'd had a pretty good idea already of what would need to happen to make this work, but talking with Death had only solidified the sinking sensation in his chest that this solution would need to be on his shoulders. He'd caused the problem; he needed to fix it.

"How?" Bobby and John asked in unison, giving each other a mildly annoyed look at the inadvertent echo.

"Sam," Gabriel said, his tone low, and very clearly a warning.

Sam ignored the archangel. "Lucifer's only going back in the cage if one of two things happens, right?" Holding up one finger he said, "Either he jumps in of his own free will-"

"Not going to happen," Dean snorted, shaking his head.

Sam inclined his head towards his brother and held up a second finger, "Or his host makes the choice for him and drags Lucifer down with him."

Gabriel's expression was dark, but Dean caught up with Sam's inference before the archangel had a chance to argue. "Hell no!" Dean exploded, starring at his brother with a mixture of shock and terror. "Drop it, Sam, right now. We'll find a way, and it sure as hell won't include you freaking sacrificing yourself."

John had blanched visibly about halfway through Dean's response, and he too was looking at Sam with unabashed horror. "Nothing," he said firmly, "is worth that, Sam."

Glancing around at the anti-Apocalypse team gathered in Bobby's kitchen, Sam felt an odd sense of warmth at how stricken they all seemed by even the mere idea of him jumping into Lucifer's cage. Even Castiel looked upset at the thought, and Bobby didn't even seem able to form a rebuttal, but he was doing a fairly strong job at conveying his disapproval and horror with just his face.

"It's not ideal," Sam allowed, "but I'm the only thing we know for certain that Lucifer wants enough to risk coming for. If I can overcome him, even for just a split second, then I can drag him into the cage before anyone else gets hurts. Dean, trust me, I know it sounds like an awful plan, but this whole situation is my fault, and the fact that the solution would require my sacrifice is not a good enough reason to abandon the idea." He looked beseechingly at his brother, but he knew even as he spoke that nothing he said was ever going to make Dean accept the idea. "Take care of Sammy" was too much a part of his ingrained nature, no matter what more recent motivations he might have to agree with the idea.

"Awful plan doesn't cut it," Bobby snapped at him. Dean's face was red and he seemed too dumbstruck to argue at the moment. "No member of this family is going in the pit with the Devil, no matter what damn sins you feel you gotta atone for. That ain't how we do things, idjit."

Though he still looked intensely foreboding, Gabriel's expression had begun to shift, becoming more and more calculating with each passing second.

"What are you thinking?" Sam asked, his eyes on the archangel's face. His question drew everyone's attention to Gabriel, though Dean kept shooting worried looks at his brother.

"You might have a very small part of a reasonable plan," Gabriel mused, his lips twisting into a brief smirk when he saw the look of annoyance the young hunter gave him in response.

John and Dean wore twin scowls, highlighting what was typically not a very strong family resemblance. "Whatever you're thinking," Dean warned, "the answer is no."

"I want to hear where this is going," Sam countered. Returning his attention to Gabriel, he said, "You clearly don't like my idea, so what kind of plan are you cooking up over there?"

Gabriel snorted. "I'm with the rest of the gang, kiddo. There's no way you're throwing yourself into the cage. Overpowering Lucifer from the inside though...that you might be able to do."

"NO!" Bobby, John, and Dean spoke out in a disjointed cacophony of disapproval, leaving only Castiel and Sam to remain inquisitive as the to nature of Gabriel's plan.

Castiel's head tilted slightly as he stared at his brother. "What good does it do us if Sam overpowers Lucifer, but does not jump into the cage?" He hesitated, glancing towards Sam. "Of course, I do not wish Sam to sacrifice himself. I merely fail to see the point of one half of his plan without the other."

Sam nodded his agreement. "Cas is right. What the hell is the point of overpowering him if I'm not going to trap him?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Have a little faith, guys. What do you think I've been doing all these years - scrapbooking?"

Sam's eyes lit up with understanding. "You want to go to the other tricksters for helps," he stated, knowing he was right. His brow furrowed again right away and he huffed. "What exactly is it you think a bunch of pagans are going to be able to do?"

"For all we know, the pagans would just as soon kill us to stop the apocalypse," Dean pointed out. "They've got to know we're the vessels."

"You guys worry too much," Gabriel dismissed. "I'm not talking about creating a full scale pagan convention in the backyard. I've got a couple of good trickster buddies who've got some pretty impressive powers. I may be awesome, but my power is still fueled by grace. Lucifer can match me blow for blow, even at my trickiest."

"Magic," Sam stated, realizing where Gabriel was going with his disjointed plan. "You think Lucifer will actually be overcome by magic?" He knew his tone was skeptical.

"Normally, no," Gabriel admitted. "I've got an idea though. Say you get my big bad brother inside you and overpower him, which I can probably help you out with, by the way. Once you have control, you probably won't have it for very long. You'll have to jump into the cage pretty much immediately, or you'll lose the opportunity."

Most of the room made matching sounds of outrage.

Sam held up a hand until everyone settled down and looked towards him. "Guys, Gabe has already made it clear he doesn't want me to jump into the cage. How about you let him finish before yelling?"

"Thanks, Samsquatch," Gabriel said, looking amused at Sam defending him. He didn't need it, obviously, but it was sweet, and he winked at the taller man when he caught his eye, causing Sam to flush awkwardly. "So, continuing on with the explanation of my brilliant plan, during which I was so rudely interrupted-"

"Gabe," Sam stopped him, sighing heavily. "Your audience does not have endless patience. Spit it out."

"Fine," the archangel huffed. "Look, here are the basics. Sam, you say yes and overpower Luci. Everyone else will play defense so nothing and no one interferes. I'll get together a posse of the tricksters I trust the most, or at least the ones I'm least paranoid about, and we'll prepare a net."

"A net," Dean repeated flatly. "How the hell is that going to help?"

"I happen to know quite a bit about nets," Gabriel retorted, looking a little offended, "and I'm hardly talking about rope mesh here, guys. I'm going to have some of the most powerful magic users I know construct a net that will support a human," he inclined his head towards Sam, "but do nothing to impede the fall of grace meant to be in the cage in the first place. Not to mention, the cage will be reaching out for Lucifer as soon as it opens. It was built for him, and it knows what his grace feels like. Once our jolly green giant over here jumps, the cage will do the rest, and us tricksters will be there to catch him."

Bobby was looking at Gabriel in a new light, his gaze calculating. "Loki's credited with inventing the fishing net," he said, not bothering to make it a question.

Gabriel gave an elaborate bow, straightening up almost immediately. "Not that I made a habit out of fishing with magic," he acknowledged, "but like I said - I know a lot about nets. It's a stupid plan, but it's a plan, and Samsquatch has got a point. Lucifer's never going back willingly, and we have absolutely no way of pushing him in bodily."

"I don't like it," John said. It was the first time he'd spoken in a while, other than grunts and exuding the general demeanor of a storm cloud. "There's too much that could go wrong, and who knows what this could do to Sam?"

"Dad." Sam moved until he was standing in front of his father, still a little taller than the older hunter. "Gabe's right - it's not a good plan, but it's something. We need  _something_."

"For the record," Gabriel added, "I wouldn't even suggest allowing Samsquatch here to say yes to Luci if I wasn't completely confident that he could wrestle back control. Like I said, I can probably help with that."

Everyone had an expression of warring dislike and cautious consideration. Sam and Castiel were clearly the two most willing to entertain the idea, though Bobby looked cautiously optimistic as well. John and Dean were the two dissenters, but even Dean looked like he might be swayed. The hunter was looking at his brother's face, watching Sam discuss details with Gabriel. 

"Dad," Dean said quietly, snatching John's attention back from the developing war counsel before them. "I don't like it. At all. But at this point, our job isn't to talk Sam out of this."

"Isn't it?" John muttered, sighing heavily.

"No." Dean's tone was so determined that it brought John's eyes back to his eldest's face immediately. "Our job now is to make it impossible for Sam to fail. I'm not losing him, Dad. No to the pit, not to Lucifer, and sure as hell not to himself and his damn guilt. We're going to give him a reason to win, okay?"

John's eyes drifted back to Sam, noting the carefully controlled hope that was starting to make itself known on his youngest's features. "All right," he agreed. "This better work."

Sam glanced back towards his brother, surprised to see a confident light in the older man's eyes. He offered a smile, which was met with a nod of encouragement. Bolstered, Sam returned his attention to Gabriel, and allowed the small seed of hope he'd been feeling to take hold and grow within him.

Dean inclined his head toward's Sam and murmured to his father, "It will."


	15. Chapter 15

"I'd love to help, Loki, but I'm busy." The speaker was lounging on a bed of brightly colored blankets and pillows, his dark skin glinting in the bright midday sun.

Gabriel stood over his sometimes-friend, unimpressed. "I can see that," he replied, keeping his tone mild. "Look, Anansi, I wouldn't have come to you if I didn't think you were my best hope."

The African Trickster didn't even blink. "Please. You say that as if you aren't courting other Tricksters. You forget, Loki, I know you well. I do count you a friend." He glanced at the archangel and gave him a broad grin. "Most of the time."

"Yeah, well, forgive if I don't want to try and stop the Judeo-Christian Apocalypse with just the two of us," Gabriel dead-panned, rolling his eyes in frustration. "If we're really friends, then you know why I'm asking you, and not knocking on Eris' door."

Anansi barked a laugh, his head turning back to the sky. "Because she scares you?"

Gabriel huffed. "Not the point...but true. In any case, you're the one with the specialty in outwitting anyone you set your sights on. We need that. Eris just causes chaos, and I'd prefer that we exercise a little bit more caution."

"I can understand saving the world and all," Anansi agreed, his expression turning contemplative. "There's more though, isn't there? For you, I mean."

"Let's just say that I've been made to care," Gabriel said firmly.

Anansi studied Gabriel's expression for a moment, then nodded. "You've got yourself a spider, then. Call me when you're convening your council of war."

* * *

 

Coyote found Gabriel before the archangel even had a chance to track him down. "I saw the spider already," Coyote declared. "I'm in."

"Just like that?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow at the furriest of his Trickster friends. "That's awfully responsible of you."

"I owe you," Coyote reminded him. "Besides, you can't gather together the only Tricksters that don't actively want to kill you and just not include me. That would hurt my feelings."

Gabriel snorted. "They don't  _all_ want to kill me," he disputed.

Coyote made a huffing noise, his nose flexing as he barked a laugh. "Right, because Hermes didn't try to disembowel you with Dionysus' help?"

"First, what happens in Athens stays in Athens," Gabriel scolded his friend, barely suppressing a smirk. "Second, you're wrong anyway. They got Athena to try, but she got annoyed with me and told them to do their own dirty work."

Coyote rolled his eyes. "You charmer," he said wryly. "Who else are you trying to recruit for this mission?"

"You, Anansi, and I was hoping to stop by an island, but which island is going to depend on who's in the least trouble." Gabriel's lips twisted into a skeptical expression. His last two Trickster appointments were not known for their endless maturity, and he was doubtful he'd find either of them in a state capable of helping him.

Snorting loudly, Coyote gave a short howl of laughter. "Good luck with that!"

* * *

 

The island where Gabriel had expected to find another Trickster ally was devoid of any magical imprint when he arrived. Stopping the first pedestrian he saw, an older woman carrying a basket of coconuts, he asked, "Have you seen a big guy, long hair, skin like he took a bath in the sun?"

"Oh, you mean Maui!" The woman exclaimed, looking pleased. "Such a nice young man. He's away though. Has been for a few months. He made a new friend and took off adventuring."

Gabriel scowled, slightly put out by this 'new friend' business. "Who?"

The woman shrugged. "Some girl. She's not from here. Maui started visiting all the islands again after they joined forces though, so I think she's been good for him. If you need him for something though, good luck finding him. It's a big ocean."

Glancing out over the water, Gabriel sighed. "That's for sure." That just left the Brit.

* * *

 

" _YOU BASTARD! I NEVER LAID A HAND ON HER, BUT YOU DAMN WELL OWE ME A NEW BEER!"_

A fairly young looking man with curly hair and an over-sized green hoodie stood in the back of the bar, giggling as he watched a fight devolve into a a seething pile of angry men on the floor, the women involved standing around in bewilderment and disgust as they watched the scene unfold.

"Mature, Puck."

"Loki!" The young Trickster looked up at his old friend, grinning, before he froze, concerned. "Wait, we weren't supposed to meet up, were we? Sorry, I didn't mean to bail on you-"

"Relax," Gabriel assured him. "You didn't miss anything. I just need to talk to you. Why'd you start a bar brawl though? That doesn't really seem your speed."

Puck shrugged. "The big one is an arse to his lady, and the titchy one keeps chatting up all the uninterested girls. I thought they could take each other out and solve everybody's problems in one go."

Gabriel surveyed the scene and made a noise of mild interest. "Not bad. A little uncouth, maybe."

"Eh, I've seen worse battles I played no part in," Puck countered, waving his hand, "What did you need me for? I don't need to hang about."

Snapping his fingers and taking them to a quieter spot outside, Gabriel cleared his throat. "So, the apocalypse is happening, and I need help to stop it."

Puck blinked. "You mean all that angel racket? Is that actually happening?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Yes, Puck. Lucifer and Michael are about to go toe-to-toe, or try to at least, and take out the planet at the same time."

"Right, well, how are you stopping it?" Puck was by far the most eager so far of Gabriel's recruitments, and he was relieved.

"Lucifer's vessel is going to allow him inside, overpower him, and throw him into the pit," Gabriel explained. "I'm going to work with Anansi and Coyote to build a magic net to let Lucifer's grace fall in while keeping the human topside."

Puck looked impressed. "That's clever! How's a human planning to overpower the will of an archangel?"

Gabriel grinned. "That's why I need you."

"I'm not anywhere near your level of Trickster, Loki," Puck reminded him, looking uncomfortable. "I'm cheap tricks and favors for the kind. I do small things. What exactly are you hoping I can do?"

Gabriel frowned. "Don't sell yourself short. You influence minds, Puck. I've seen it in action. I can reinforce Sam enough to help him, but Lucifer can recognize my influence and undo it if he senses it there. Your magic is different from mine. If you help, Lucifer won't sense it as quickly, and he might not sense it at all. Sam's strong, but I'm not taking any chances with his life. Or, more importantly, his soul."

Puck squinted at Gabriel for a moment, curiosity clear on his face. A slow grin widened, joined by a twinkle in his eyes. "You snogged him yet?"

"Our first date is predicated on winning the apocalypse," Gabriel replied without missing a beat.

"Say no more!" Puck cried, flourishing his hand with a dramatic motion. "I shall do what I can to help aid true love!"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "You're lucky the Polynesian was on a voyage." 

* * *

 

"Dean?" Sam stood outside the living room, his expression hesitant.

John and Dean glanced up together from the books they'd been looking at. "What's up?" Dean asked, his eyes narrowing when he saw the look on his brother's face.

"Can I talk to you?" Sam inclined his head towards the yard. John looked wary, but didn't say anything when Dean shrugged and stood, headed for the door.

"You boys all right?" John asked, looking at Sam.

Sam smiled and nodded once. "Yeah, Dad. Thanks. I'll give him back in a sec."

As soon as they hit the porch, Dean was turning to raise an eyebrow at his brother. "So, what is this super private talk we need to have that Dad can't be a part of?"

"It's not that he can't," Sam corrected, moving towards the Impala. "It's just that the conversation will be different with him, and it's just more important that you and I talk about it first."

"Awesome," Dean sighed. "That's not even a little bit ominous."

Sam snorted. "Sorry. That's kind of my middle name, I think."

"So?" Dean prompted, resting his back against his baby and folding his arms. "Shoot."

Sam paced slowly in front of his brother, taking a breath. "Okay, here goes. So, before Gabe left on his recruiting mission, he told me his plan." Sam gestured to his head.

"For how you're going to overpower the Devil?" Dean clarified, raising his eyebrows. At Sam's nod, he straightened up. "I definitely want to hear this. Is it a good plan? Are you going to make it through this in one piece?"

Sam nodded slowly. "Yeah. I think I will. I'm not just saying that either. I genuinely think we're going to come out of this on the other side, Dean." He met his brother's gaze, allowing the older Winchester to see that he did truly believe in their chances.

"Good," Dean affirmed, relaxing minutely. "So, what's the plan?"

Sam hesitated. "This is the part I think we need to talk about, because I need you to know ahead of time and not hate me for it."

Dean froze. "I've never once hated you, Sammy," he said quietly. "I can't promise I'm going to love everything you ever do or say, hell, even think, but you're always going to be my brother."

Taking a deep breath, Sam smiled and nodded. "I know that, Dean. Now, I know that. For sure. I don't doubt it anymore. That's not really what I meant, anyway. I want you to understand, I guess."

Dean shoved aside the problematic assertion that Sam had ever doubted where he stood on Dean's personal food chain and focused on the last part of his response. "Understand what?"

"Gabe wants to work with one of his friends - and he swore to me that he would only allow someone he trusted with my life to help - to reactivate my psychic powers." Sam held his breath and paused his pacing, staring at Dean in anticipation.

Dean blinked once, twice, then took a deep breath and counted to ten. This was too important for him to risk ended the conversation with a snap reaction. "Like last year?" He asked, his voice quiet.

" _No_ ," Sam replied emphatically, shaking his head so hard his hair swooshed around his face. He batted it back behind his ears. "Not like that. Gabe told me that my powers are biological, and they were only ever twisted the way they were because of Azazel. He wants to go in and remove the...well, I guess it's kind of like a blockage, that's keeping me from using it while I'm not on the blood. One of his friends is going to do it so Lucifer won't sense Gabe's grace and guess what's happened. Ultimately, the goal is to give me the strength within my own head to overpower him no matter what. Because it's going to be hard, Dean. I'm not going to lie about that. It's going to be really damn hard. But Gabe thinks I can do it, and he thinks this gives me the best chance to do it. I believe him, Dean. I think I can do it, but I'm not going to risk failing, which means getting my powers back, in as pure a form as I can. It's just, my powers have never once been a good thing between us. Even when I saved your life with them, I know I was scaring you. I was scaring me. This is going to be free of any demonic influence though, and I just need you to know. I needed to tell you so that it wouldn't be another damn secret that comes back to bite us in the ass, especially when my history of doing things for the right reasons has worked out so spectacularly well for us." Sam took a deep breath, his chest heaving a little with the force of his speech. He left it at that, his eyes darting back and forth between Dean and the ground as he waited for a response.

Before Sam could react, Dean had moved forward and pulled him into a hug. "Shut up, Sam," Dean muttered when he felt Sam's jaw open against his back. "I don't need to hear you ramble your way through more explanation. I trust you, okay? I trust you. You're going to be my kid brother whether you've got psychic powers or not, okay? I know you wouldn't go back down that road with the demon blood. And, believe it or not, I actually trust Gabriel not to throw you down that path either. If you guys say this is the best way to ensure my brother doesn't become a permanent host for Satan, then I'm okay with this. I'm so beyond okay with this that I will personally host your psychic coming out party."

Sam snorted a wet laugh, blinking rapidly as Dean tightened his hold briefly before letting Sam go, the brothers stepping back so they could see eye-to-eye again. "Thanks," Sam said, a small, wistful smile on his face.

"What's that face for?" Dean asked, his eyes narrowing again.

"Nothing," Sam said quickly, schooling his expression. When Dean's face conveyed how poorly that excuse worked, Sam sighed and relented. "It's just, I wish we'd done this," he gestured between them, "before the convent. I wish I'd known."

"That's why I called," Dean pointed out, feeling like he probably wasn't going to get another opportunity to put his cards on the table. "Honestly, I just assumed you never listened to my message."

"I..." Sam's brow furrowed. Something about Dean's tone did not match his memories. "What did your message say?"

Dean offered a wry smile. "Bobby chewed me out for being like Dad," he admitted. "The college thing, you know? It was a low blow to say that to you again, and I knew it. So I apologized, and I said I still owed you a beat down, since you know, I totally did, but that we were always going to be brothers."

"When did you leave that message?" Sam asked, his voice a little hoarse.

"Not long after the fight. After Zach took me though. I wasn't sure I could even get a message out, but I could, so I did. Like I said, I assumed you didn't get it. Based on your face, I'm thinking I was right." In fact, Dean was pretty damn concerned about the face Sam was making.

"Your message," Sam said, "Zachariah must have done something to it. It could have been Ruby, but Zachariah had more reach. I didn't hear any of that. It would have made all the difference If I had. He must have known that."

Dean cursed under his breath. "He told me you needed a push. I must have played right into his hands."

"It's not your fault," Sam replied automatically. "I'm the one who thought his bullshit was real."

"What did the message say?" Dean asked, concerned now. "What kind of poison have you been believing this whole time?"

"It doesn't matter," Sam said firmly, digging his phone out of his pocket. "I shouldn't have believed it in the first place." He called up his voicemail, thumbed through the menus, and deleted the message. "There. It's done. Once we shove Lucifer back in his cage, we're done, with all of this."

Dean had about a hundred questions, but he recognized Sam's closing the lid on the subject for what it was. He'd have to track down Castiel and find out what exactly Zachariah had done to his brother, but right now, he needed to make sure Sam was going to be all right. "Are we going on a vacation when this is over?"

"Gabe wants to take me to Belgium," Sam said, grateful for Dean's change in subject. At his brother's questioning eyebrow, he heaved a sigh and added, "It might be a date."

To Sam's surprise, Dean just rolled his eyes and groaned. "I knew that was going to happen."

"If you want to invite Cas, we can double," Sam teased, laughing out loud at the expression on his brother's face.

Dean spluttered incoherently for a second. "What are you implying?!" He demanded.

"I'm implying that not even the demon blade is sharp enough to cut through all that sexual tension," Sam stated, grinning. Knowing what was good for him, he took of running back towards the house. He felt lighter, with the weight of some of the pain he'd been carrying lifted from his shoulders.

"You'd better run!" Dean blustered, coming up behind Sam quickly, following him back into the house. He came to an abrupt stop in the hallway at the sight of Castiel, who looked bewildered.

The angel looked both brothers up and down, then met Dean's eyes, genuinely puzzled. "Were you...chasing each other?"


	16. Chapter 16

"Thanks a lot!" Dean yelled at his retreating brother, whose shoulders were unmistakably shaking with mirth.

Castiel quirked an eyebrow at him, awaiting an explanation.

"Don't worry about it, Cas." Dean shrugged and chuckled a little forcefully. "Sam's just doing his duty as an obnoxious younger sibling."

"I was unaware that was a requirement," Castiel mused, though the twinkle in his eye betrayed the humor he was obscuring from his tone. "Perhaps I have been shirking my duties towards Gabriel."

Dean snorted. "I think he's plenty obnoxious without your help." He caught himself smiling at Castiel and schooled his expression, Sam's words echoing in the back of his head.

"You still look distracted," Castiel noted.

Dean shrugged. "Sam's the worst when it comes to teasing, because he'll never rib you about anything that isn't true." He rolled his eyes. 

Castiel's gaze was more intuitive than Dean would have liked, and a small smile glanced across his lips. "I have come to realize that Sam excels at poignant observations," the angel replied.

Huffing a laugh, Dean made a snap decision for honesty over deflection. "When we were kids, he teased me for days about these twins. I can't even remember their names. Er, no, the guy was Peter, I think. I can't remember his sister's name. Anyway, they were a year younger than me, and I'd been hardcore flirting with the sister for weeks. Sam ribbed me constantly, saying that I was so over the top that I'd won the affections of the wrong twin. I thought he was just being stupid, but he was right. She didn't even realize I was flirting with her, but Peter slipped me his number and a poem through my locker." Dean shook his head, laughing again. "I felt bad, because we moved like two days after that, so I never actually said anything to him. Anyway, my point is that Sam is an observant little bastard, and has a habit of pointing out things I haven't realized myself yet."

"A habit he continued in your most recent conversation?" Castiel inclined his head slightly, giving Dean a careful once-over. "What internal secrets has your brother revealed to you this time?"

"No way." Dean shook his head and moved past the angel onto the porch. "That's enough heart-to-heart for today. We survive this upcoming showdown in one piece, and you can have as many free personal question passes as you want." His heart skipped a beat at giving away so much license, but it settled easily. Castiel had proven himself worthy of Dean's trust.

"I will hold you to that," Castiel promised.

Dean's heart did another rhythm that had nothing at all to do with trepidation, and he ignored it completely, a skill he'd long since mastered. "C'mon," he urged, "let's go see how the plan is coming."

* * *

 

Sam had entered the house to discover John glowering at Gabriel, who was seated on the couch, literally twiddling his thumbs.

"Samsquatch!" Gabriel exclaimed. "Thank Dad; I thought Winchester Senior over here was going to barbecue my insides just by thinking hard enough about it." He wagged a finger at John. "This is how Tulpas get made, you know!"

"No it-" Sam cut himself off, shaking his head. Debating Gabriel on mythology was definitely not worth the time or energy, and besides, he wasn't completely wrong. "Did you get everything you needed?"

"Every _one_ I needed," Gabriel corrected, following the change in subject without a problem. "I came to get you, since I refuse to introduce more chaos into this house than is strictly necessary."

"Thank you!" Bobby called from the other room. 

Sam nodded, moving to where he'd last set his things down to retrieve his firearm and jacket. He turned around to see Gabriel's disapproving expression. "What?" He demanded, annoyed.

Gabriel sighed heavily. "You really want to meet a trickster for the first time while packing heat?" He clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"You really expect me to go anywhere ever without a weapon?" Sam raised an eyebrow. "Gabe, I carried a flask of holy water and a silver knife with me to pottery class. I'm sure as hell not meeting a supernatural being  _unarmed_. Besides, I doubt I can kill your friend with a normal bullet."

John was giving Sam a look that was torn somewhere between derision at his choice in coursework and pride at the presence of mind to stay armed. "Pottery?"

"It was a freshman elective," Sam retorted.

John laughed. "Tell me you at least passed the class."

"With flying colors," Sam affirmed. "Getting back on target, I'm not going anywhere without a weapon. That ship sailed when I was nine."

The look on John's face suggested that he remembered the exact moment he'd first handed his younger son a loaded weapon, but he didn't respond, instead looking to Gabriel to see how the archangel would react.

Gabriel sighed heavily, his expression far more put upon than was warranted. "Fine. Of course, if he actually tried to hurt you, you do realize that I'd kill him before he'd even finished thinking about it, right? Friend or no friend, you're safe with me, kiddo."

Sam's expression softened. "I know, Gabe. Believe it or not, I do actually trust you."

"Setting aside how insane that is," John interjected, "what exactly do you need him for?" He directed the second statement at Gabriel.

"Oh, a fellow trickster is going to help me return Sam his psychic powers," Gabriel announced. He grinned broadly, reached over to grasp Sam's hand, and snapped his fingers.

"WHAT?!" John bellowed at the now empty room.

"Did I hear him right?" Bobby demanded, stumbling in from the kitchen, slightly out of breath.

The two men's heads whipped around to see Dean entering the house. The older brother paused in the doorway, wary. "What happened?"

"Gabriel just took off with your brother and said something about his powers," Bobby summed up, folding his arms and staring Dean down. "You know anything about that?"

Dean winced. "I kind of thought he'd tell you guys before he left. Gabriel probably didn't give him a chance."

"What happened?" Castiel repeated Dean's initial query, stepping into the room behind his friend.

"Your brother took mine to go meet his trickster budy," Dean clarified.

"Ah, yes. I expect Sam will feel much better once his abilities have been freed," Castiel stated, nodding his head at his own statement.

"Somebody needs to explain before the grown-ups over here start getting worried," Bobby snapped, annoyed.

John had stood to his feet and was pacing. "This is Gabriel's plan? To bring back that evil into Sam's life?"

"Hey!" Dean snapped, stopping everybody and drawing all eyes to himself. "Don't talk like that about my brother," he ordered. "Sam's not evil, and neither are his powers. I don't like it either, but the only reason he needed the blood before was because his natural powers were all tangled up in Azazel's poison. Gabriel's having a friend use magic to untangle all of it so that Sam can use his powers the way he was meant to be able to."

John shook his head and continued pacing. "I don't like it. It's a slippery slope."

"Hypocrite," Dean replied, crossing his arms when John whirled around with a betrayed look of anger on his face. "You heard me."

"Watch yourself," John warned.

"Dad, you know full well that Sam and I met Missouri back when you disappeared on us. You were just fine with psychics back when she was helping you out. Sam's not any more evil than Missouri." Dean smirked when John huffed at him.

Bobby nodded. "All right, I'm satisfied for now. Let me know when they're back. I trust you boys." He moved back into the other room, muttering under his breath in annoyance as he did.

John sat back down, tapping his fingers restlessly on the table. "What if something goes wrong?"

Dean exchanged looks with Castiel, who nodded, clearly thinking along the same lines. "I highly doubt Gabe's going to let anything happen to Sam."

* * *

 

"Thanks for that," Sam complained, jerking his hand back from Gabriel in annoyance. "I hadn't had a chance to tell him yet."

"You told Dean, then?" Gabriel guessed, striding off across the large green field they'd landed on, expecting Sam to follow.

In spite of himself, Sam did, falling in step beside the archangel. "Yeah."

"How'd he take it?"

Sam shrugged. "Surprisingly well. I don't think he's happy about it, but he's not mad at me, and he doesn't hate me, which is all I can ask for."

Gabriel evaluated Sam for a moment before nodding and letting the subject drop. "Puck's meeting us here," he said, offering a change in conversational course.

"What's he like?" Sam asked immediately, thankful for the change of pace.

"He's friendly, mostly. A mischief, like any good trickster, but he's more the type to help you out, long as you've got something sweet for him. He's one of the tricksters I get along with best." Gabriel smiled as he spoke, the expression fond.

"You old sweet talker, you," said a new voice from their left.

Sam's hand went toward his gun on instinct, but he relaxed when Gabriel greeted the newcomer with a hug. "Puck, I take it?" The trickster looked younger than Sam had imagined, and looked more like a curly-headed teen than a supernatural being. He was wearing skinny jeans, for heaven's sake!

Puck grinned. "Not quite what you pictured?" He snapped his fingers and was abruptly clothed in a flowing green gown, strands of flowers draped over every inch of him. "This more traditional?"

"Now you just look like a fairy," Sam said wryly.

Gabriel snorted as Puck returned to his hoodie and jeans. "Personally, I miss your elf phase."

Puck scowled. "There was a time and a season for the Legolas look, and it got me all the lovely ladies I wanted, thank you very much!"

"TMI, guys," Sam interrupted. "Are you planning to take the impending end of the world seriously?"

Puck huffed. "I'm quite serious, I assure you. It's Loki who's being a wanker."

"That's pretty normal," Sam agreed. He caught Gabriel's eye and winked when the archangel began to sputter.

Puck laughed gleefully, clapping his hands together. "Oh, I like you, Sam Winchester!" Turning to Gabriel, he declared, "I approve of your choice, Loki. Come on, let's mess with his brain so you two can save the world and go on hot, steamy dates together." He moved over to a clear, fresh patch of grass, free of any weeds, and promptly sat down.

"I'm sorry, what was that last part?" Sam hissed at Gabriel, who shushed him.

"Not now, Samsquatch. Save it for Belgium," the archangel teased.

Sam rolled his eyes, but didn't press the topic. "All right, how's this going to work."

"You're actually not going to have to do much," Puck told him, fiddling with the strings on the hoodie. "Loki here will sedate you, I'll remove the blockage in your mind, and then we'll let you sleep off any mental stress it might have caused. After that, it's on your boyfriend to get you trained up in time."

Sam elected not to contest the reference to Gabriel, and raised his eyebrows at the archangel beside him as the two took a seat beside Puck. "You promise you're going to keep me 100% safe during this whole thing?"

Gabriel's expression softened and he nodded. "I promise, kiddo. Trust me, you're going to wake up feeling better than you ever have."

"No more demon blood?" Sam asked quietly, with a yearning hope he couldn't quite repress.

Gabriel winced. "Sorry, Samsquatch. Not quite. It's too much a part of you after all these years. It'll be there, but we're going to extract every finger of influence it has. Your powers will be your own, completely and totally."

Sam was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "All right. I think that's the best I can ask for. What do I need to do?"

Gabriel snapped his fingers and a flannel blanket appeared underneath Sam, with a soft looking pillow beside Gabriel's leg. "Lay down, kiddo. We'll take care of you." After a beat, he amended that. "I'll take care of you."

"I trust you," Sam replied, laying down on the provided blanket. The top of his head brushed Gabriel's leg as he settled on the pillow. He felt two fingertips brush his forehead, then he was asleep.

Gabriel looked up to see Puck watching him with a soft expression. "What?" the archangel demanded.

"You're completely gone on him," the other trickster observed, a little awed. "I didn't realize it was this serious."

"Nothing's serious right now except the impending apocalypse," Gabriel said pointedly. "I'll worry about a relationship once I'm confident we'll all survive for a decent amount of time."

"Fair," Puck conceded. More seriously, he said, "Loki, I promise, I'll help however I can. You won't lose him."

"Thank you," Gabriel said softly. "C'mon, let's get to work."


	17. Chapter 17

Sam awoke the next morning in what was traditionally his bed at Bobby's house. Gabriel was lounging against the wall on the floor across from him, his head tucked against his chest.

"Gabe?" Sam whispered, not wanting to wake the archangel up.

Gabriel's head snapped up without delay, startling the hunter. "Angels don't actually sleep, kiddo. I was just relaxing while you wasted the day away."

Sam ignored the first part and narrowed his eyes at the second. "What time is it?"

"Almost noon."

Sam bolted upright. "Dean's probably freaking out." After a beat, he remembered their resurrected father. "Dad too."

"Probably didn't help that I locked them out of the room." Gabriel agreed, seeming unbothered by the admission. "I did tell Cas that you were fine, and instructed him to share the news."

Abruptly remembering he now had psychic powers again, Sam focused on trying to feel them and do something with them. After a moment, he blinked and focused on Gabriel again. "I don't feel any different."

The archangel rolled his eyes. "I have to teach you what to do. You're going to have less of the automatic power push, since the blood was boosting you before. Now it's going to be like an extra muscle. I'll show you how to use it, don't worry."

"How long will this training take?" Sam asked, wary. "We do have an apocalypse to stop."

Gabriel shrugged. "I'm not letting you take on my brother unprepared, and it's going to take my friends a few days to put together everything we need to make the net anyway. I'll get you ready."

Nodding, Sam got to his feet, double checking to make sure he was still fully clothed. "Okay, well, I should check on my family before we start on that."

"You need to eat too," Gabriel reminded him. "Keep your strength up. Training will be exhausting."

Sam nodded absently, recognizing the wisdom in that, but setting it aside for the moment. Heading to the door, he opened it to find his brother pacing the hallway.

"Finally!" Dean burst out, looking agitated but relaxing as soon as he saw Sam was still in one piece. "Good grief, princess, you really needed that much beauty sleep?"

Sam rolled his eyes and headed for the stairs, motioning for his brother to follow. "Mental exhaustion, I guess. Gabe warned me I'd have to sleep it off. I didn't mean to worry you guys. How'd Dad take Gabe's outburst before we left?"

"Not well, but I talked him down. Reminded him about Missouri and how that relationship made him a hypocrite." Dean sounded a little proud of himself.

Sam reached the bottom of the stairs and turned to face his brother, eyebrows raised. "You called Dad a hypocrite?" He asked, incredulous.

"Right to my face." John said from the kitchen. "Ballsy kid."

"Full grown man, Dad." Dean corrected, arms folded.

"Well, no one's screaming at each other, so I'll take that as a win." Sam glanced between his father and brother, relaxing a little bit when nobody started freaking out. "What about Bobby?"

"I'm in the kitchen," the older hunter announced, "and I'm fine with it as long as you don't get yourself killed. I've had plenty of psychic friends. I ain't worried about you going dark side, boy."

Sam rounded the corner, followed by his family, and gave Bobby a grateful smile. "Thanks, Bobby."

The older hunter waved him off. "You hungry?"

Sam's stomach finally growled, and he inclined his head. "Apparently."

Gabriel breezed into the room, snapping his fingers and firmly guiding Sam towards a chair. "Here. Sausage, fruit, and eggs. Plenty of good stuff. Eat up so we can get to work."

"I can cook, y'know." Bobby griped, scowling at the archangel in announce.

"He doesn't eat enough, and my way is faster." Gabriel retorted.

Sam decided to ignore that particular debate and just eat the food. It was easier. Dean took the seat across from him and snagged a sausage link, eating it quickly before Gabriel could intervene. Sam smirked at his brother, then rolled his eyes when he heard a snap and a replacement sausage appeared on his plate.

"So, you're psychic now?" John asked from the doorway. He looked displeased, but like he was trying to be pleasant. 

"I've always been psychic." Sam corrected, taking another bite of egg and following it up with a piece of cantaloupe.

John sighed heavily. "You know what I mean."

Sam swallowed. "Gabe and his friend got rid of the block or whatever that was caused by Azazel, so now I should have full access to the powers I was born with. In theory, anyway."

"In theory. So you don't even know that this'll work." John directed the question at Gabriel, even though he'd stated, not asked.

"It'll work." Gabriel's reply was firm and confident. "I just need to help him stretch it a little so he knows how to use it."

"That going to hurt my kid?" John's tone was casual, but the steel underlying it could not be overlooked.

"If it was going to, I wouldn't be doing it." Gabriel's response echoed John's, but the steel in his tone was far more intense, betraying a devotion the rest of them had only guessed at.

"It'll be fine, Dad." Sam stepped in, not wanting some kind of measuring contest to break out. "I trust Gabe."

"I guess that'll have to be good enough." John seemed placated though, and he relaxed from his stiff posture.

Dean shook his head. "Why does it seem like every interaction we all have is the precursor to a major battle? We can't all lighten up a little?"

Sam snorted at his brother, stabbing another piece of fruit with his fork. Glancing around, he realized suddenly who was missing. "Where's Cas?"

"Outside playing guardian angel." Dean shrugged. "I think he felt weird just standing in here with the rest of us."

"You should tell him to just relax for a while." Sam encouraged. "Come in, sit down, hang out."

"Have you met my brother?" Gabriel deadpanned. "He doesn't know how to loosen up."

"He's learning." Dean defended, standing up. "I'll go look for him. When are you guys going to start training?"

Gabriel watched as the last bit of sausage and fruit disappeared into Sam's mouth. "Now's as good a time as any!"

* * *

 

Thankfully, Gabriel had insisted on absolute peace without distractions to train Sam, so the youngest Winchester didn't have to worry about his father or brother reacting poorly if he managed to do something frightening. The archangel had taken them out to a remote part of the scrapyard, seemingly sensing that Sam didn't want to go too far afield.

"So, first rule of psychic club," Gabriel began, "is no talking about psychic club. I mean, other than to everybody in that house who knows already."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "The other psychics I've known weren't so discrete."

Gabriel huffed at him. "And what happened to those psychics?"

"Not  _all_ of them are dead," Sam countered reluctantly, "but I take your point. Discretion is the better part of valor?"

"It doesn't just keep you safer," Gabriel pointed out, "it makes your mind a better weapon in a fight. You're far more likely to take out a baddie who doesn't know what he's up against than one who's prepared to fight a psychic."

"Solid tactical knowledge." Sam allowed, nodding to himself as he considered the options that might be available to them if his powers were anything like they'd been before.

"So, when Azazel first started triggering your powers with visions, and when you were on the blood, what all were you able to do?" Gabriel leaned back against the hood of what might have been a pick-up at some point.

"Well, like you said, visions, for a start." Sam tapped his fingers as he listed off abilities. "Then telekinesis, exorcisms, sometimes I could actually kill demons, I could definitely hurt demons, sometimes I legitimately had a sixth sense, and I think I could argue a certain level of immunity against supernatural, or at least other psychic, attacks."

Gabriel nodded, like none of that information was a surprise. "Most of the demon stuff was probably the way it was mostly because of the blood. Because demon blood is basically part of your makeup at this point, we might be able to get you to the point of exorcisms again, but probably not death and torture."

Sam shifted uncomfortably. "That might be for the best. Too much similarity to before."

"Right, well, everything else sounds like it's part of your actual powers." Gabriel studied Sam speculatively. "Some of that would require a lot of practice, since at this point you're virtually a psychic newborn, but I think it's all possible."

"What's going to help me most against Lucifer?" Sam wanted to know everything, but at this point defeating Lucifer was more important than his own curiosity.

"I'm going to teach you a form of mental protection that will basically be like a spiritual form of telekinesis." Gabriel explained, looking pleased with himself, though he hadn't actually taught anything yet.

"Gabe, I wasn't exactly walking around doing that all the time, even on the blood." Sam protested. "It always sort of burst out of me in moments of high stress. I almost never managed to do it even intentionally. I mean, throwing around demons is one thing, that I can blame on the blood, but proper telekinesis that I can attribute to my powers? That rarely happened."

"High stress." Gabriel repeated. "Samsquatch, what exactly do you think playing host to my brother will be, a cake walk?"

Sam closed his eyes, sighing heavily. Opening them again, he clarified, "No, that's not what I meant. It's just, I never really figured out how to do it on purpose the first time around. What makes you think you can train me to fight against Satan in my own mind in such a short amount of time?"

"Trust me, kiddo, I'm highly motivated. Come over here." Gabriel shifted away from the truck and sat down cross-legged on the ground, motioning for Sam to join him.

Reluctantly, Sam followed the archangel over, settling in the dirt and facing Gabriel. "Now what?"

Gabriel held up his hands, looking like he was about to start a Vulcan mind meld. "I'm going to throw you in the deep end. I'm going to put myself in your head, just small intrusions, and I want you to force me out. I promise, I won't go into any violating memories, and I won't break anything. I just want to make you have real practice throwing something unwanted out of your head."

Sam considered protesting, if only based on how much having anything other than himself in his own mind had sucked for him in the past, but he gave it a moment's consideration. It did seem like the best way to practice, and he trusted Gabriel not to hurt him. "Okay."

"Here goes." Without any other warning, Gabriel placed his hands on the sides of Sam's head, and everything went dark.

_"Dude, gross!" Dean was wiping petroleum jelly off his hands ineffectively, getting it all over everything he touched._

_Sam was laughing, a huge grin on his face. "Serves you right, jerk! I didn't do anything to deserve nipple holes in all my gym shirts!" The offending shirt was poking out of the bag behind him, holes visible in the perfect place to display the teenager's nipples._

_Dean snorted. "All right, bitch, I admit, that was a dick move. Funny though. I heard about it from like six people, and none of them were even in your grade!"_

_"You owe me at least one new shirt." Sam warned. "Mr. Stokes didn't think it was funny, and I don't want to get in trouble because your sense of humor sucks."_

_"Fine, goody two-shoes. I'll swing by the thrift store after my shift tomorrow, okay?" Dean reached out as if to ruffle Sam's hair, petroleum jelly still covering his hand._

_"Dude!" Sam squawked, barely dodging the assault._

_"BOYS!" The roaring interjection of their father entering the room brought both boys to an absolute silence. "I was only gone for a day, and you've done nothing around here that I asked. I need to be able to trust you to follow orders, not spend the whole day slacking!"_

_"Sorry, Sir." Both boys spoke in unison, knowing better than to argue._

_"Wow," Gabriel mused, "your dad's kind of a killjoy."_

_Sam, the grown man, looked away from the scene he'd been reliving and squinted at the archangel. "You don't belong here." He said it slowly, considering._

_Gabriel smiled at Sam broadly. "What are you going to do about it?"_

_Sam's first thought was to shove the archangel physically, but that didn't seem right. Instead, he focused on him intently, moving all of his energy and attention from the memory to the intruder._

_In unison, the memories of Sam, Dean, and John all turned to Gabriel. They stood as one and moved as one, advancing on the archangel. "You don't belong." They stated. When Gabriel didn't move, they surrounded him, angry now. "GET OUT!" All three shoved forward. In reality, it would have done nothing except jostled the archangel in no particular direction. It might not have even done that if Gabriel didn't particularly feel like getting jostled. In Sam's mind though, Sam was boss. Anything that got shoved by his memories was gone._

The salvage yard returned, and Sam found himself blinking at the real Gabriel's face.

"Good." the archangel praised, a genuine smile on his face. "Now we just need to do that until you can keep me from getting in at all."

Sam nodded and squared his shoulders. "I'm ready. Bring it on."


	18. Chapter 18

Sam knew exhaustion in just about every form it could take. Whether it was his father forcing him to run drills as a child, his brother using up every bit of patience he possessed as a teenager, his demon blood fueled powers taxing his mind, or his heart being drained of true belief as an adult, Sam  _knew_ exhaustion.

Working with his true, innate psychic abilities was completely different.

Sam had known to expect different; Gabriel had been pretty clear on that front. Still, the vast difference between the mental strain Sam was experiencing now and the strain he'd known last year blew him away.

It was after the eleventh time that Sam had successfully kept Gabriel from penetrating his mind at all that Sam voiced his observations. "I'm mentally sore, like my brain went for a hard run, but I don't feel drained. I mean, I'd like to rest a little at some point, but we could probably keep doing this for another few hours at least. Why isn't this harder? You said it would be like working a new muscle."

Gabriel didn't bother to hide the proud look on his face. "Couple reasons. First, it's a new muscle, but it's not as new as you think it is. Imagine you had a muscle in your..." the archangel twisted his lips and examined Sam, trying to decide on an example, "...leg, or something, I guess. Anyway, imagine you've got a leg muscle that's been growing wrong for some reason. You spent all this time training that muscle, then one day, it gets fixed, and it's in the right spot now. You've never had to use it the right way, but you have had to use it, so you're starting from a weaker place, but not the weakest place." Gabriel blinked. "Did that make any sense? Dad's the one who pulls allegories out of thin freaking air, so..."

Sam laughed. "No, I'm following you. So, because of everything I did last year," a cloud flitted across his expression, "I've got a foundation that I'm using to do what I'm doing now?"

"Bingo. The other reason is that you're a natural at this." Gabriel beamed at him.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

"Kiddo, I'm not joking." Gabriel's features settled into an expression of genuine sincerity. "You're good at this. I wouldn't have even brought this up as a plan if I didn't think you were capable, but you're reassuring me with every step you take in this training process. You weren't just born with psychic powers, Samsquatch, you were born to be a psychic."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence-" Sam stopped when Gabriel started shaking his head.

"I know this stuff freaks you out, but you've known good psychics, right?" Gabriel waited until Sam nodded. "You aren't going to be defined as a psychic by what you did when the demon blood was blocking your powers. Anyone who knows enough to try to blame you for that has either already forgiven you," Gabriel waved a hand in the general direction of the house, "or is an enemy anyway, psychic powers or not."

Sam mentally chewed on that for a moment before offering a shrug. "Thanks. For defending me, I mean. I'm not used to it, but it's growing on me."

Gabriel snorted. "Ninety-five percent of the time it seems like I'm having to defend you from yourself, so knock it off. It's a brand new day, kiddo, and we're going to make you the psychic ass-kicking champion of, well, North America at any rate. Probably."

This time it was Sam's turn to snort. "I'll settle for fixing my devil-sized mistake. After that I'll figure out what a life as a psychic hunter looks like."

"Back to work then." Gabriel evaluated Sam, seeming to judge him fit to keep practicing. "You're picking this stuff up fast, obviously, but you've also been mentally sparring with me, and I've got a vested interest in not breaking anything up there." Gabriel leaned forward and rapped his knuckles against Sam's forehead.

Sam huffed at him and dodged the offending fingers, though not in time to avoid grazing contact. "Lucifer only needs a vessel, not a roommate, so he's got no incentive to play nice."

Gabriel waved a hand side to side in the air. "I think you're half right. My brother is going to be a lot more on the blunt force trauma side of things when it comes to psychic intrusion, true, but he's also probably going to try not to hurt you. At least at first."

Sam considered that, looking at Gabriel's face for insight. "You think he wants the company." He stated it, rather than asking, but the words sounded odd even as he said them.

Gabriel nodded. "I do. Luci's always needed people. Mostly to follow him, rather than to actually hang out with, obviously, but still. He's not a solo kinda guy, except for the fact that he's spent an eternity locked up. Alone. I think he'd be okay with a little voice in the back of his head, even an angry Winchester. I said before you were half right though, and that's because I think he'll get real unhappy real quick if he figures out what you're trying to do, and no amount of desire for companionship is going to keep him from trying to stop you."

"So I just need to take him by surprise." Sam mulled that over, offering a small smile when Gabriel pointed finger guns at him in approval. "What about you?"

Gabriel blinked. "What about me?"

"Did you pick a vessel for companionship, or convenience?" Sam had wondered this before, but never had such a good opening to actually ask.

"What, this?" Gabriel looked down, as if he'd forgotten what he looked like for a moment. "Oh, this isn't a real person. I made this."

Sam became aware that his jaw was hanging open and quickly closed his mouth. "I didn't know that was possible."

"That's because it's extremely difficult, most angels consider it an abomination, and I did it so long ago that it doesn't usually occur to me to share that tidbit." Gabriel shrugged. "I was going into hiding, and the bloodline that can house me would have been too much in the limelight for me to go there. So, I swiped some bodily fluids and hair from a few members of that family tree, found myself some magical friends, and made myself a vessel. Strong enough to contain me for an eternity, capable of channeling grace and magic, and roguishly handsome." He waggled his eyebrows at Sam.

Sam laughed, possibilities tumbling through his head now that he knew Gabriel wasn't sharing a ride with a third party. "I'm kind of relieved to hear that. We've met the guy that Cas is riding, and it didn't really seem like he was enjoying it."

Gabriel winced. "Yeah, being a vessel is tough. It's kind of intense, and the initial 'this is an honor shtick' wears off fast. I'll have to ask my brother about his vessel. Speaking of it being tough though, you're going to have to find a way to be ready to deal with that. I can't even pretend to imitate exactly how aggressive an archangel entering a vessel is. If I could prepare you, I would. Once he's in, you've got an enemy to fight, but the actual entrance..." Gabriel looked stricken, suddenly at a loss.

"I need a strategy," Sam surmised, trying to keep calm. "A way to not lose myself so I can have a chance to actually fight to take over."

"Strategy. Yes. Good plan." Gabriel gnawed on his lip, looking annoyed. "It's just, I only know it's rough from observation. I'm not human; I don't exactly have person experience with this."

"Jimmy, Cas' vessel, said it was like being chained to a comet." Sam winced at the memory. "I'm imagining an archangel is a lot worse."

"Maybe a meteor shower? Or, like, six meteor showers, where everything is on fire with hatred and apple cider vinegar." Gabriel scowled, still frustrated. At Sam's bewildered look, he shrugged and muttered, "I just don't like vinegar, okay?"

"Maybe we use Lucifer's personality against him." Sam's expression became contemplative.

Gabriel perked up. "Out with it, kiddo. What are you thinking?"

"Let's play on the part of him that's an angel. He was designed to work in community with a family, right? You said yourself, he probably wants company. I don't need to fight him on the way in, I just need to let him come. Once he's in, I just have to lock him down long enough to jump into the cage. Or, well, the net. You know what I mean. My point is, if I don't fight him, if I welcome him even, then he's going to be expecting this specific plan way less." Sam smiled when he saw Gabriel slowly nodding along. Hesitating, he added, "Which means I have to go to him alone."

"No way in hell!" Gabriel's protest was immediate and nonchalant, as if there was no argument to even be had.

"Gabe, listen to me." Sam waited until the archangel was actually making eye contact before he continued. "Lucifer is not an idiot. He will know if you are nearby, if Cas is nearby, and definitely if Dean is nearby. He'll be expecting it. I need to go to him alone. We'll have to set a sign I can do, something you can watch for so you know it's time to meet me to throw him back in the cage."

Gabriel gaped at him. "How do you expect to sell that to everyone else?" 

Sam flinched. "We can't tell them."

"Hell. No." Gabriel was scowling now, fury building in his eyes. "You want to lie to your family so you can go off on a suicide mission?"

"Ouch," Sam replied, his tone mild. "Where'd all the confidence in my psychic prowess go?"

Gabriel heaved a heavy sigh. "You  _know_ what I meant. Literally anything could go wrong, and you'd be without backup! Not to mention that hardly anyone else in that house is on team Gabriel. I'm tolerated at most. You really want me to be the person breaking the news that you ran to the devil without any backup? Particularly if something happens to you? I'm pretty damn sure that brother of yours has a creative brain hiding in there somewhere, and I did not survive this long just to become archangel barbecue because I have a soft spot for a damn hunter!" Gabriel finished his rant with increased volume, then stopped speaking abruptly, fuming.

Sam took a deep breath before responding. "You're right. It's not fair to ask you to lie to them. I shouldn't lie to them either. It's just, you know I'm right. What's to stop Lucifer from killing everyone? Or guessing our plan?"

Gabriel considered the questions carefully, mulling them over in his head for a minute in silence. "You're right," he echoed. "It's not fair, but it might be our only option."

"We don't have to lie," Sam suggested. "We can go somewhere, to keep practicing, and while we're gone I'll just get a car and go to Detroit. Lucifer will be there waiting for me when I get there; I know it. You can come back here as soon as you've seen my sign, whatever we pick, and then you grab everyone and we have our final stand. They won't have time to be pissed until after we're victorious or dead."

"You're kinda fatalistic, you know that?" Gabriel huffed and shook his head. "I knew you were the smart one. I don't like it, mostly because it's you and my big brother alone, but you're not wrong. I think it's our best chance. I'm not letting you do this without a hell of a lot more training though."

"Definitely," Sam agreed. "I want to be as prepared as I can possibly get. This isn't going to be an easy, but I know it's the right choice. We're going to win, Gabe."

Gabriel smiled. "All right, maybe you're not all fatalism and self pity. Square up, kiddo. I'm not going to pull any punches."

Sam closed his eyes, ready. "Take your best shot."


End file.
